


Miscommunication

by DWM



Category: Avengers (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Dubious Consent, Identity Porn, M/M, Other, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-26
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DWM/pseuds/DWM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony are friends once more after coming back from Hela’s Hel. Or are they? Steve’s being too touchy-feely, Tony’s paranoia goes up a few notches and Spider-Man’s senses are a-tingling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SOMETHING IS ROTTEN IN THE STATE OF DENMARK

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place some time after Avengers Prime with some changes to what happened in 'Hel' in the mini.
> 
> \---
> 
> Entry for the **Cap/Iron Man Big Bang Challenge** with awesome art by [Dorcas_gustine](http://dorcas-gustine.livejournal.com/215602.htm) and [Silver_autumn](http://silver-autumn.livejournal.com/58676.html)! All of my love to them both and to my betas Jazzypom y Mozzarellaroses!
> 
>   
> [   
> ](http://silver-autumn.livejournal.com/58676.html)   
> 

**W** ith Hill’s report the Avenger’s meeting had officially ended, for which Tony was very very glad. He was still sore from the battle; why did he always have to be the one to be sent through buildings first and the one to end up with the most injuries out of everyone? Oh yeah, his self-destructive nature, okay. Even so, he was supposed to be the heavy hitter, not the heavily hit one. Or maybe he was. Whatever, he was on the verge of a migraine again. He still had to go and work on that electric car Stark Resilient was supposed to show at the 21-Green International Expo in Seattle and he had the most stubborn and hard-assed people he could have found to work with him on it. Hopefully they could work without arguing too much today. Oh hell, who was he kidding? Of course they wouldn’t even start working without a fight over the specs for the car’s second matrix they had supposedly already settled on yesterday and would begin to build today.

Oh, and Pepper wanted Rescue upgraded. Of course she did. And Rhodey had told him that she hadn’t even liked the reactor arc the first time he put it on her to save her life! He’d never understand Pepper. He usually liked her that way anyway, it was more fun.

Tony was brought back from his reverie by a big heavy hand on his left shoulder, which -- judging by the strength of the grip-- could only belong to one person.

“Hey. You okay?” The voice was soft and tinted with concern.

“Steve. Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m—” Tony looked around to find no one besides them both in the room “—okay. I dozed off, didn’t I?”

It was good to be back in a team, even if half of them hated his guts and the other half… probably hated his guts too but showed it less. Sitting in a chair in the meeting room with only Steve for company brought back memories of better times.

“You’ve been working too much on too many things lately, Tony; you should take a break.” Steve cradled Tony’s head in his hands and gently lifted his face so they’d look each other in the eye.

Tony snorted. “Hi Pot. I’m Kettle,” he waved a hand halfheartedly, smiling.

“I’m being serious,” replied Steve with a frown.

“Me too,” Tony freed himself from Steve’s hands and rose to his feet, suddenly angry and with, yes, a full-on migraine. Great. He tried not to shout. He barely managed it, his voice just a little higher than normal.

“You’re the top dog now! Can you tell me that you’re not overworking, too? But I don’t call you on it, do I? Because I understand how it is. You should—” Tony stopped. He really didn’t want to fight with Steve now. Ever since they had come back from Hela’s Asgardian hell he had been wonderfully, if sometimes a bit unnervingly, nice to him. More understanding too. Maybe even a bit friendlier than before Extremis. And he touched Tony a lot more than he ever remembered him doing. Tony wasn’t sure what to make out of that.

The air felt heavy in the dark empty room, the only source of light being a tiny ray poking in from the hallway through the slightly ajar door. Whoever had left last had turned the lights off.

He expected Steve to retaliate, shout back at him, to get angry. It had been a very stressful week, what with that Kang mess and everything else; they both were like time bombs ready to explode. Instead, Steve inhaled and exhaled slowly, as if mentally counting to ten before answering.

“I don’t want to fight,” he said evenly.

“I don’t want to, either. Sorry I snapped at you,” replied Tony softly, massaging his head to try and lessen his migraine.

“It’s all right, Tony. It’s all right,” said Steve, circling him with those big arms of his and…

“Steve? Are you—You are aware that this isn’t exactly a hug. Right?”

…Embraced him.

O-kay. It was one of those weird, awkward moments. Again.

“Yes?” was Steve’s answer, while resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. Tony waited for Steve to let go and make light of the gesture, to say something that’d make this whole situation less confusing and therefore less uncomfortable but he didn’t.

It seemed like everyone had gone to their respective homes already too, so no chance of someone walking in on them and breaking the moment.

Thing was… even though the Avengers loitered around the Tower most of the day, there were actually only three people inhabiting it: Jarvis, Steve and Tony. After all of what had transpired between the teams these past months it was understandable that they wouldn’t want to live in the building; there were too many ghosts, too much history. Tony would be lying, though, if he said it hadn’t hurt when thinking everyone would be back –foolishly hoping so--, no one had, in fact, stayed. The first two nights alone in the too spacious penthouse had been awfully glum and Tony had been ecstatic when Steve moved in, he still was, but then there were the awkward occasions when, everyone gone and Jarvis out with May, he didn’t know what to do with the man’s increasingly overwhelming affection. Like right now.

“This is kind of weird, don’t you think?” asked Tony after a while, unable to stand the silence and the strange intimacy anymore. “Did something happen between us after I made my back up memory that I should know about?” Because if it had, what the hell was he thinking deleting something so important without leaving at least a hint about it for himself to figure it out later?

Tony hadn’t moved away, but wasn’t responding the embrace either. He never responded Steve’s odd touches and wow, now he sounded like one of those kids from those ads about good touch and bad touch. Oh, for chrissakes! This was Steve! Captain America! –never mind Bucky, no one ever minded Bucky, really. He shouldn’t be thinking of this as something weird. It was just an innocent… embrace, not hug, embrace. Steve was only trying to comfort him, make him feel better because he was nice like that. With everyone, surely. He hadn’t seen him embrace or touch the others the way Steve did to him but—

“We tried to kill each other. That’s what happened,” came the muffled reply. Was Steve nuzzling his neck? God, he was.

“Yeah and yet—” Tony grabbed Steve’s really big and toned arms and pushed him away just enough to look at him. There was a weird look on his face, his eyes dark and intense on Tony, and it made him feel a bit dizzy. If it were anyone else but Steve, Tony would say that it was lust right there that he saw in his eyes. He really hoped Steve wasn’t being mind controlled, because he wasn’t sure he could fight him in his current state: Tired, sore and with a migraine from hell.

How he hated migraines! His were vicious nasty aches that barely let him function like a decent human being. He couldn’t quite think straight and it dulled his perception of everything. It made it hard for him to pilot the armor lowered his response capacity to everything, even everyday things like simple coffee drinking which saddened him the most.

Now, migraine plus odd behaving Steve were a killing combination for Tony.

He gathered his thoughts and kept on, “This isn’t normal, Steve.” And Tony really tried to keep his voice level but he was actually kind of panicking and hoped it didn’t show. Steve raised his head to look at him, face scrunched in confusion.

“I thought we talked about what happened in Hel. You said it was okay, that we were good. Remember? After we came back we talked,” he stroked Tony’s back soothingly. The warmth irradiated by Steve’s big, dexterous hand --and how dexterous indeed, it was working wonders on his tired, hurting muscles-- was comforting but also quite distracting. It was certainly helping, probably psychosomatic if anything else, with his headache but something important seemed to be going on here and he needed to focus.

“Humm, yes we did. But I think we’re missing something,” Tony squirmed free and Steve let him go, looking kind of… dejected? Why, yes, Steve looked dejected. What had that talk had to do with anything, anyway?

  


*

  


Tony found himself doing a quick backtrack to that day. The day that had started with him waking up on a table to a surprised white haired teen delivering him his old Iron Man armor, the suitcase one –God, he loved that old armor—and had ended with Steve punching the lights out of Osborn. All in all a good day until both had gotten dragged to some sort of Asgardian Hel with Thor while in the midst of an argument about that accursed Civil War thing.

Separated from his teammates Tony had been captured by ogres and a dragon-old man, had been tortured and called a pig –those monsters!— and with Thor’s lightning had bluffed his way out. He had had the most painful and embarrassing naked ride on a horse ever, escaping from his captors and had arrived to a village only to find a sad faced, half-naked flushed Steve accusing him of having run away; Tony had defended himself, leading them both to one of the strangest discussions he’d ever had while naked with someone almost equally naked until dragon-old-man and minions had attacked them and Steve had made short work of the lot of them.

There also had been a woman who kind of reminded Tony of Wanda who’d given them some food and drinks and had stared at him whenever she had thought he hadn’t been looking, which had been all the more unnerving because he had been thankfully clothed by then so as much as he had tried to, he hadn’t been able to understand why would she look at him that way. From time to time she had exchanged looks and smiles with Steve, too. Obviously they had slept together, or so Tony had deduced.

Then they had found Thor. There had been a fight, where old dragon man had helped --funny how that whole mess had turned out in the end. There had been lightning too, there had been some words from Thor and some from Steve and some shutting up from Tony because he had been putting his foot in his mouth. And then they had thankfully returned back to Earth after having defeated one of the skimpiest sexy villains he had had the luck to fight.

When they had arrived at Stark Tower, Steve had asked to talk to Tony in private.

“So, about what happened in that hell’s village. Is it really okay with you?” Steve had asked, a blush coloring his face as red as Tony’s armor. And well, hadn’t that been weird? What problem would Tony have had with Steve sleeping with a dead but admittedly very hot Asgardian chick? He would’ve also have slept with her. Verily.

“Yeah? I don’t mind, really. I’m completely fine with it. You can even do a repeat if you find out how to and if you want. I mean, well, I would want to do a repeat too,” by then, Tony had been really tired and he still had had a meeting up with Pepper to figure out what he’d do about his wrecked and bankrupt life so he had wanted for the talk to be over soon and hadn’t been paying much attention to whatever had been coming out of his mouth. It just hadn’t made sense, really, to talk about something so mundane like a one night stand with some hell dimension’s stranger –okay, not so mundane, but still pretty inconsequential in Tony’s opinion- yet Steve had looked so serious when he’d dragged him out to the kitchen to talk about it. And after whatever Tony had said, though, he had just kind of beamed. Beamed at him. So alright, it had obviously been very important for Steve, which had made Tony decide to indulge him, tired as he had been, and made him invest what little energy he had still had left on him in focusing on the very-important-for-Steve conversation they had been having until then and not falling asleep.

“I know this is pretty big for you and seriously, whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’ll be here. I’ll help you out,” Tony had said sincerely. Steve had looked so happy and Tony had smiled in return.

“So we are good. It’s okay to pursue this, right? This relationship. ” Steve’s eyes had been so blue, so earnest, so eager.

“Yep. Fine with me. See where it goes and all that. We are good,” Tony had nodded in agreement and then he’d felt himself blush for some reason that up to this day couldn’t figure out. Maybe it had been Steve’s elated gaze on him or his beatific wide grin. He had felt as if it had been years since being the recipient of such an honestly cheerful smile from him.

Tony had rubbed his closed eyes and yawned, actually yawned, which had been actually pretty surprising to him.

“You should go get some sleep, Tony. You are still recovering,” had then said Steve caressing his face, “I’ll come over later. Okay?”

And Tony had thought then that he must’ve had been really tired for those last words from his friend had sounded---oddly suggestive. “Sure,” he had answered with a yawn, not taking seriously the almost flirtation, chalking it up to his worn-out brain making things up.

“Go to sleep. Now.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later, Steve.” Tony had finally managed to say before waving a weak goodbye and turning around to walk towards the closest thing to a bed he’d been able to find which had ended up being one of the sofas in the living room. Some time later, he’d woken up to Pepper’s voice calling his name.

After that, Steve had smiled at him a lot more and the touching had started. Incident in the hall later that day aside, it all had seemed normal.

  


**

  


Thinking back to _the talk_ , Tony was more of the idea that maybe they should have it again. It had been kind of cryptic now that he’d reflected on it. And okay, that hand shouldn’t be doing that there.

“Listen, Steve,” Tony removed the offending hand on his ass and gave it back to its owner, “I’m happy we are on good terms again and you’ve been very understanding and supportive towards me, all things considered. But I don’t think I’m quite comfortable with this, uh, closeness. Should we have that talk again? Just to clear out some things that I seem to be missing, really.” Geez, that face Steve was making sure made him feel like a villain, the kind of villain that stole candy from hapless kids. Steeling himself, Tony took a step or two back to get some breathing space. Steve was too close and it made him feel inappropriately hot.

There shouldn’t have been enough light to see Steve’s troubled face so clearly, but then again, Tony’s bleeding edge armor provided him with night vision.

“I understand. I’m going too fast, right? It’s okay. I’m sorry,” Steve said sheepishly. The shy smile on his blushing face was quite endearing, actually, everything about this man was endearing which was a thought Tony should’ve screened. He’d have to readjust his mind filters. “It’s just that I thought, well, given your, ah, reputation, I thought you’d be more open, more aggressive, yet I find myself being the one making the bold moves while you are so… passive,” he scratched the back of his head nervously.

Tony’s eyes widened. He decidedly wasn’t getting it. What was Steve insinuating?

Steve seemed to notice the bewilderment that Tony was too tired to care to hide. “Not that I don’t find it appealing, really,” he added hastily, “But, well, you said you’d want a repeat and both of us have been so busy with Avengers and non-Avengers business that we’ve hardly had time to see each other least spend any time together. So I thought--” and then, right there, something finally seemed to click in Tony’s head, which was a relief because the whole conversation along with the unusual situation wasn’t truly helping with his monstrous migraine. Of course it all was about spending time together. Steve must’ve been wanting to mend their broken friendship, to get close to him again, and apparently getting Tony to help him find that Asgardian chick too. And here he was having crazy ideas about his old friend.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I misunderstood this whole situation,” Tony opened his arms in a conciliatory gesture, “I get it and I’m sorry. Yes, we’ve been busy but if what you want is for us to spend time together maybe I could clear my schedule for you tomorrow? Have the whole day for us alone,” he smiled, hoping to cheer up his friend. Judging by the dazzling smile Steve gave him in return, he had succeeded.

“That’d be great. I’ll clear my schedule too. Take the day off,” Steve seemed to think of something and then smiled guiltily, “I hope the world can manage without me for one day”.  
Tony smirked. “Do you have any idea of how presumptuous you sounded saying that?”

“Why, Tony. Do I remind you of someone?” Steve smirked back.

“A very handsome man indeed. Reckon he’s bankrupt now, though, but he’s still hot stuff if you get my drift,” Tony winked feeling more relaxed now that everything had been sorted out. It was good to be able to joke with Steve again. When he woke up in a hospital bed thinking it had been just the usual -battle against super villain of the week, him waking up in the hospital after being beaten up to a pulp- he had found out instead that 1) Osborn had been appointed Director of SHIELD and had had the organization’s name changed to HAMMER? Really? REALLY? 2) Lots of his friends had died fighting each other and/or some Skrull invasion of apparently epic proportions, 3) he and Steve weren’t friends anymore. Mostly because Steve had died. He had gotten Steve killed. He didn’t remember any of it, but reading about it had left him broken all the same again.

“Absolutely,” replied Steve looking weirdly at him and Tony found himself tensing again. This was dangerously close to crossing the fine line between just awkward to beyond awkward. “Very hot indeed.” Aaaand line crossed. A hand started to slide downwards his back but Tony stopped it just before it went further down his small back, face flushing. It was becoming quite difficult not to misinterpret what were probably friendly comforting touches from Steve. Any other time, any other person, Tony would’ve taken such advances as flirting. But this was Steve.

“Huh. Yeah, well, gotta go. There’s a car I gotta build in less than four weeks,” said Tony with an almost too embarrassingly high-pitched voice and with it, excused himself from the room. He felt Steve’s intense gaze on his back and suppressed a shiver. Great Tony, what have you gotten yourself into now?

His head hurt a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles are quotes (mostly because I’m kinda unimaginative like that).
> 
> (This one is pretty known, but anyway…) “SOMETHING IS ROTTEN IN THE STATE OF DENMARK” / Shakespeare’s Hamlet.


	2. LITTLE MISS MUFFET, SAT ON A TUFFET

**S** o they were back at the Tower. Knowing Osborn and his “Avengers” had been living here gave Peter the creeps. It had been his home once but it didn’t feel like that anymore, there was so much emotional baggage attached to the building that it sometimes suffocated him. On the other hand, he was slowly patching things up with Tony, now that he had forgotten all about the Civil War and everything. _The bastard, getting a free pass just because he deleted his brain. That was cheating in Peter’s book._ But no, no, Peter wouldn’t think like that anymore. He was trying to forgive Tony, trying to be friends with him again and really, the man was cool, he had always admired him, had looked up to him, wanted to be like him –smart, suave, driven– and maybe that’s why it hurt him so much what had happened during the S.H.R.A.’s mess. Even Cap, well, Steve –Bucky was supposed to be Cap now– had fixed things with Tony. If a bit strangely. He didn’t remember them being so close before. Or more like Steve being close, Tony just looked a bit spooked sometimes around him. Just like how he looked right now. Yep, that kind of spooked.

“What’s up?” greeted Peter.

“Apparently, you,” replied Tony after jumping slightly in surprise and not quite smiling as he looked up at him. From the looks of it –worn out soot stained jeans and undershirt– he was coming out from his workshop and he sounded tired. No, not tired, more like stressed out.

“Funny,” deadpanned Peter jumping down in front of Tony. He had been hanging from the ceiling again. So what? He liked it. Made him feel good. Everyone was just jealous. “You don’t seem well, though.” And against his better judgment, added “Wanna talk about it?” Because even if Peter was still a bit angry at Tony for all of what had happened in the past year, stuff he couldn’t hold onto him anymore, he cared for him.

Fortunately, SHRA, Clhor and Negative Zone aside, Tony did seem to have better judgment. “No. I’m okay.” That right there was Peter’s way out of what would probably be a very unpleasant and discomfiting talk for both of them.

But Peter felt like prying and well, there was nothing good on TV. “You don’t look okay. C’mon, tell Dr. Spidey what’s troubling you,” he crouched on one of the nearby sofa’s arm.

“It’s silly. I’m sure I’m just making things up,” dismissed Tony, and he flopped next to Peter on the sofa.

“So? Spill the beans.” They needed to air better stuff on Sundays. Seriously.

“Have you ever, well, no, scratch that or not. Err… what do you know about sexual harassment?” And this must’ve been something very embarrassing for Tony because he was blushing furiously and tried to hide it by putting both his hands over his face. _AWKWARD._

“Whoa. I think I don’t wanna hear about it after all,” replied Peter sincerely. But he had already started it so he may as well see it through. And hey, Tony and him had had a moment back when the Kang incident so maybe he could do this after all. He was willing to try at least so he braced for it, “Are you being, uh, suh-suh-sexually harassed? Is it Maria Hill?” Geez, he hoped it wasn’t because, well, Maria Hill was Maria Hill and she was scary.

“What? God, no! And no. No! I’m just being paranoid. That’s all,” Tony was so flustered Peter would’ve laughed at the image if his mind wasn’t being invaded by other kind of horrendous imagery about ‘Tony’ and ‘Sexual’ and ‘Harassment’. Because Peter had watched a movie about sexual harassment once –he just couldn’t remember why or with whom he had watched it– and it hadn’t been a pleasant movie.

Tony kept hiding his face between his hands and after a little bit of thinking on Peter’s part, the arachnid finally broke the silence.

“It’s Wolverine, isn’t it?” Tony didn’t reply. “Don’t let him get to you. He makes everyone feel sexually harassed but that’s just how he is. I thought you’d be used to him by now considering he was with us before. I sure had to get used to it,” Peter was babbling and didn’t seem to be able to stop. But really, Wolverine made anyone around him feel uncomfortable like that. He was willing to bet even Magneto felt sexually harassed by him when they fought. “I’m willing to bet even Magneto feels sexually harassed by Wolverine when they fight,” And okay, he had said it and wasn’t taking it back. Tony was now just looking at him amusedly and maybe that was an improvement but somehow it made Peter feel a bit stupid.

“I bet I missed you a lot,” said Tony fondly. That warm smile on his face made something inside Peter twist. And all of the hurt and negative feelings swelled back up in his chest.

“Well, you didn’t show it!” he snapped before he could stop himself. Tony’s smile disappeared instantly, gaze fixed then sadly on the floor. Peter backtracked, it wasn’t fair and maybe Tony had cheated but still, he wasn’t exactly the same person he had been back then, “I’m sorry. I-”

“It’s okay,” Tony looked back up at him with a weary smile, “What do you say we forget this whole conversation and see what’s on TV,” he asked later, grabbing the control remote from under the cushion next to him.

“There’s nothing good on TV. I checked,” Peter sat on the sofa too and watched Tony channel surf like a pro through the vast selection of channels.

“In that case, maybe you should try working out? It’s a perfect day for a ball game or a training session,” Steve’s voice came from the stairs, “not with me though, I’m taken for the rest of the day,” he sounded more cheerful than he’d been in days and was dressed casually but still had a perfectly brushed hair and the clothes seemed carefully chosen. Blue tight jeans –not that Peter was looking at how tight but, boy were they tight!– and a simple white T-shirt that also stretched tightly around him, but not too much, just enough to show off his super soldier musculature and Peter was man enough to admit he felt a little envious. He was all scrawny and thin. No wonder women never took him seriously. Steve had even put on some strong wood scented lotion. Next to Peter, Tony tensed ever so slightly. If it wasn’t for his spider-sense Peter wouldn’t even have noticed. Steve sat on a couch next to them.

“You going on a date, Steve?” asked Peter and Tony’s breath hitched.

“I’m spending the day with Tony. We are going out for lunch,” answered Steve with a big warm smile looking lovingly--?-- at Tony who once again looked kind of spooked.

“Tony?” Peter shook the man and he seemed to come back to his senses.

“I didn’t know we were going out,” he rasped, “I’m not dressed properly,” he said more evenly, looking at his grease stained clothes. Thanks to his enhanced hearing Peter could notice the slight panic in his voice. He didn’t seem in any state to go out. Sexual harassment could do that to a person. Peter knew, well, not that he _knew knew_ but he knew. From the movie, okay, the aforementioned movie with Demi Moore and Michael Douglas, _sheesh!_

“Maybe you should stay at home? I know it doesn’t concern me but Tony seems to be having some sort of problem,” put in Peter. He really wanted to help Tony, who was silently cursing next to him, and maybe Steve could help too. He didn’t like seeing Tony so distressed. Not even back at the war and surely not now. “You should tell him Tony,” he advised in a low conspiratorial voice.

“No. It’s okay Peter, I’m okay. I-I’ll go get changed,” said Tony and stood up. Steve caught his arm. “Tell me what?” he asked gravely, face full of concern, “What is this ‘sort of problem’ that you are having? You can trust in me, you know? I’ll do whatever’s---”

“It’s nothing really!” Tony cut him abruptly. He freed his arm from Steve’s hand and with both hands pointed to himself and his clothing. “Just look at me! I’m a disaster!” he said with a fake cartoonish girly voice and started towards the stairs, “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll change real quick”. Steve rose from the couch and stopped his retreat with a hand on each of his shoulders, then turned him around so they were face to face.

“You look good Tony. You always look good,” Steve retorted affectionately. Had Steve ever been so nice to him? Why can’t Steve tell Peter that he looks good too? No one ever complimented Peter. Aunt May didn’t count. “Now tell me what’s troubling you, please? I’ll help however I can. Just tell me. Tell me Tony,” he sounded sincerely concerned.

Tony gave him a strained smile, “It’s nothing, honestly.” Steve didn’t seem convinced.

“Someone is sexually harassing Tony,” blurted out Peter because it was now or never. If there was anyone that could truly help Tony, it’d be Steve.

Tony looked dismayed, he mouthed something like ‘tattletale’ under his breath, and Steve frowned slitting his eyes.

“Is that true Tony? Who is it? I’ll have a few words with that someone,” he sounded pissed and not at all like having words. More like having fists. Cap –because yes, Steve would always be ‘Cap’ to Peter– could be so protective of everyone sometimes, it made Peter feel safe when he was around. You couldn’t not believe everything would turn out alright in the end when he was there, when he promised you he had got your back.

“I’m not being sexually harassed, dammit!” cried Tony flailing his arms around exasperated. Jessica, Logan, Bucky and the others were just walking in which he apparently didn’t notice since he just went on, “And certainly not by Logan! Geez!” That’s when the friendly chatter between the newcomers died and all the room went uncomfortably silent. They stood motionless a few steps in from the entrance staring at Tony. Logan made a face.

“Logan?” Steve looked murderous. All the eyes in the room went from the rapidly paling Tony to a visibly upset Steve and to a defensive Logan.

“Yes?” This was going to get ugly and Peter would be, as always, in the middle of it all. Fortune hated him.

“NO, damn damn damn! Spider-Man, you idiot!” Tony was pretty worked up. His face, ghostly white a few seconds ago, was all red now.

“I’d like to talk to you, Logan.” Said Steve not quite threatening. Yet.

“I ain’t molesting Stark if that’s what ya think, bub,” Logan’s voice was terse. He spared a contemptuous look at Tony before looking back at Steve.

“Of course you are not!” Tony was shouting now. No one paid him any attention.

“Ain’t my type. Nice ass though,” taunted Wolverine with a mocking leer. See? That’s what Peter was referring to. Sexual. Harassment. Right. There!

“WHAT THE HELL?!” squeaked Tony, arms in the air, echoing Peter’s thoughts on this whole situation.

Well, maybe they could make do without Wolverine in the team since with his last comment the guy had pretty much sentenced himself to death if Steve’s menacing stare and set jaw were anything to go by.

BuckyCap and the others were petrified. They just looked at each other and then looked between Steve and Logan nervously. Even Maria Hill looked anxious.

“It’s the Spider,” said Logan and all the eyes in the room fell on him. Why, thank you very much Logan! Let everyone think good ol’ Spidey is the pervert here!

Now Steve was more than pissed off and Peter’s spider sense was tingling.

“WHAT?! What the hell is wrong with you people? Why isn’t anyone listening to me!?” Tony was frantic.

“Spider-Man…” Steve’s voice was ominously calm.

“I’m not! Tony just told me! I was only trying to help!” Peter whimpered.

“What I’m saying is,” continued Logan, “that’s the Spider here, who’s gettin’ a talk with these here ladies,” _SNIKT!_ “fer spreadin’ filthy rumors ‘bout me,” Logan was dangerously close now. Oh sweet Jesus, Peter was done for.

“I’m not spreading--” _Snikt! Snikt!_ Wolverine walked closer and Steve did the same, “Why me? Why do I always get into these messes!? It’s all your fault, Tony!” Peter was going to faint anytime now. And by the looks of it, Tony too.

“I’m not being molested goddammit, listen to me!” Tony’s high pitched whine made everyone focus their attention on him and that’s when Peter took the chance for a strategic retreat. He still felt sorry for Tony, leaving him there with a pissed off Steve, Wolverine and a sexual harassment claim hanging in the air but right now he had to save his own hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “LITTLE MISS MUFFET SAT ON A TUFFET” / Mother Goose’s Little Miss Muffet.


	3. IT WOULD BE SO NICE IF SOMETHING MADE SENSE FOR A CHANGE

“I was just trying to--” Tony sighed forlornly, “See, Spider Man just wanted to help and I--” Tony sagged into the sofa cushions not finding the words to explain what the ‘problem’ Peter had talked about was to Steve, who sat next to him with an arm around his shoulders. Everyone had gone away after Logan presumably went to drink some beers and wait for Spider-Man to ‘man up an’ face him’. Jessica had given Tony some weird looks and excused herself while BuckyCap had looked at him suspiciously. Thor had offered his help if Tony ever felt like talking about ‘it’ and Maria Hill had snorted at that just shooting him daggers with her eyes. Noh-Varr looked like he just didn’t give a flying fig, which was actually pretty reassuring. He was getting to like the kid a lot.

Steve started to rub the back of his neck, fingers playing with the thin short hairs there. Warmth shot through all of Tony’s body stirring foggy recent memories, threatening to awake certain parts of him that he wanted-needed- asleep or this situation would take an ugly and embarrassing turn for the weird. The prospect of it was what finally gave him the guts to seriously look at Steve and tell him what he should’ve told him long ago, “Look Steve, I’m not entirely comfortable with you touching me the way you have been doing these days, okay? It’s too much. It makes me feel awkward. That’s all,” Steve’s hand on the back of his neck froze and he gave Tony an incredulous pained look.

“It was about me? You were telling Spider-Man that I was sexually harassing you?!” He didn’t hide the hurt in his voice either. Steve was so openly distraught that it made Tony’s stomach sink.

“No. Not like that. I was trying to make a point and--” he tried to explain fretfully but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He just got up and looked directly at Tony with heartbroken eyes.

“I don’t get it, Tony. I don’t get you!” he didn’t-quite shout frustration clear in his voice. Steve started to pace in front of him, hands at his back, a frown on his face. Tony only followed him with his eyes, astonished. “You said you were okay with it but--” Steve paused, looked at him strangely and brought his hands up to motion between them both, wordlessly outraged. He seemed to think it over for a few seconds and then asked with annoyed wonder, “Are you one of those, how do they say, closeted cases?”

“What?” No, seriously, what?

“You don’t want me to touch you, you don’t want to go out with me,” enumerated Steve angrily, “you don’t want us to share a room; you won’t even let me kiss you in private!” Steve stopped pacing and gave him an imploring look, “What are you playing at with me, Tony?”

“K-K-Kiss!?” Tony spluttered, “What are you talking about?!” And, yes, that had been asked with a ridiculously funny shrill voice and he was blushing, hard. If this was a joke, it was one in awfully bad taste and if it wasn’t… he may faint. Because, kiss him? Steve wanted to kiss him?! It was too much, too confusing, too improbable.

  


*

  


 **The Hall Incident, a few weeks ago, right after coming back from Hel.**

It was late and Tony had just arrived at the Tower after his bone-wearing meeting with Pepper, which, by the way, had been full of surprises: Pepper wanted back an arc reactor he supposedly had put on her and which they used to bring him back from his vegetative state. He also seemed to have built her a suit that she too, wanted back. He’d have to ask Rhodey all about that later. Oh, and Bambi was back! Bambi Arbogast! That had been truly a pleasant surprise that day.

Now though, all he really wanted to do was to change into his favorite work clothes and go down to the lab to work on the specs for the next Iron Man suit. He had in mind something revolutionary, absolutely astounding, like out of science fiction, an engineering miracle. He’d read his stashed notes about a boy they’d met with the teen heroes called the Young Avengers and it had spurred some awesome ideas in his brain.

As he approached his room, Tony spotted a certain super soldier leaning in on the wall next to the door, apparently waiting for him.

“Hey,” he greeted and Steve, who so far had been decidedly contemplating the floor, looked up sharply at him and smiled shyly.

“Hey,” he replied and straightened up just as Tony reached the door’s handle.

“Is something wrong? Anything I can help you with?” offered Tony casually as he made to open his room. Steve directed an oddly intense look at Tony’s hand on the handle, licked his lips and looked back at him.

“A-aren’t we,” a nervous Steve Rogers was quite a sight, flushed cheeks, hands trembling slightly almost imperceptibly, eyes searching, “going to share a room?” finished asking.

And well, wasn’t that weird? “Why would we share a room? Don’t you have yours from back when we reformed the Avengers?” puzzled Tony. He really hadn’t had time to check on the state of the whole building --that wasn’t his anymore-- yet. He had learned that he’d lost the building to that scummy bastard that was Norman Osborn. Now though, the building seemed to belong to Steve and Tony was taking temporary residence here at least until he wasn’t broke anymore. He wasn’t sure if the Avengers that Steve was surely planning on bringing up together again would welcome him in, after all of what had happened between them, so he was ready to leave the moment the others moved into the Tower.

Oh, and guess what else? Osborn had stolen the armor he had been planning on giving Steve before all hell broke loose and now said armor was ruined too. He’d named himself ‘Iron Patriot’! Boy, did Tony hate that crazy man.

Still, the building should’ve stayed, structurally, just as they’d left it before disbanding.

“Unless Osborn and his cronies left the other rooms unusable? Please, tell me they didn’t.” At Steve’s comically disbelieving stare Tony groaned, “They did, didn’t they? Those savages!” Great, now he’d have to rebuild his precious Tower that wasn’t his anymore. And he had no money. Because it’d have to be him the one rebuilding; he didn’t trust Steve nor anyone else to hire the right people, supervise the buying of the right materials and look out for the whole project in general. Stark Tower was his baby. Well, one of his many babies.

“Damn you, Osborn,” cursed Tony mutely.

“The other rooms are okay, Tony,” Steve sounded deflated but Tony still sighed in relief.

“Well, there you have it then.”

“It’s just that I thought--” The look that Steve was giving him was hopeful tinted with something else he couldn’t quite decipher but seemed to be pretty intense. It reminded him of his first dates when he still hadn’t mastered the art of seduction and awkwardly suggested sex to his partners. His middle teens had been a fascinating age of wonder, mistakes and learning.

Steve didn’t finish the sentence, though; instead he cleared his throat and tried again, a sheepish smile on his face, “I meant to stay the night”.

It wasn’t that Tony minded sharing his room with Steve. They had shared lots of stuff and what not during Avengers missions before, so really, sharing a room wasn’t a hardship, plus the bed was fairly big with enough room for even five or more people. It, however, was a strange request. Was Steve having nightmares again? Back then, when they’d just gotten him out of the ice and the nightmares were pretty intense, he would share a room with Rick, Hank or Thor from time to time to help his sleep. Tony was hardly at home back then and when he was he spent most of his time down in the workshop so he’d never gotten to share a room with him. There also had been that pesky secret identity issue too.

“Are you okay, Steve? You having nightmares again?” If so, there went his long anticipated night at the workshop.

Steve looked at him with slight bewilderment and took a few seconds before replying.

“I— No, not now. But I wanted to--” Steve sighed and took Tony’s hands in his. He rubbed circles on them with his thumbs. “I guess you must be tired. It’s been a long day, we had an intense fight in hell, we came back to Earth, you had a long meeting with Pepper and you are still recuperating,” he touched his forehead to Tony’s and closed his eyes, “I should’ve thought of that. I’m sorry”.

It was comforting; the way Steve was being all nice and kind to him. He had been sure that after all had been said and done, they still wouldn’t have been friends. Because he’d read the diaries, he’d made his research and it all seemed as if they both had hated each other. He knew, though, that he could have never ever hated Steve, no matter what. It had been hard for him to believe what he had read.

“You catch some rest, okay? I’ll be around,” said Steve releasing his hands and looking tenderly at him.

Nice. So they truly were friends again?

“We are together now so there’s no rush, right? Good night, Tony,” Steve kissed him hesitantly on the cheek and left for his room.

Riiiight. That last part had been a bit weird but Tony could understand were Steve was coming from. They had fought each other, they had died and come back to overthrown Osborn, they had survived hell, literally, and they were together again, Thor, Steve and him, like in the old days. It was natural to be over emotional about it.

Tony finally went into is room and changed quickly, then rushed to the workshop. He had a next century, no, next millennium’s Iron Man suit to work on.

  


**

  


 **The Workshop Incident, earlier today.**

Tony hadn’t slept all night working on this long range inter-dimensional node connector bridge machine –-sexier name pending–- with an internal magick energy signature tracker and highly customizable search parameters with some occasional by-phone help from Reed who apparently wasn’t very fond of healthy sleeping habits either. He hadn’t finished yet and Steve wouldn’t like him missing sleep but if his friend wanted to see that Asgardian hottie anytime soon he’d have to suck it up and be grateful. Once Steve could go back to her, maybe he’d be more distracted with his new girlfriend and give Tony some breathing space. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having his friendship back or his, as weird as it sounded, tender attention but the overwhelming closeness, unusual almost non-friendly intimacy at times and the occasional awkward touches and equally awkward moments were driving him mad.

Because Tony was human, new Iron Lad inspired armor within aside. He was still a former alcoholic, always workaholic, simple man with a more than healthy libido that couldn’t stop feeling hot and bothered whenever his once again best friend touched him this or that way. And he had this stupid, idiotic and surely very mistaken impression that Steve was somehow flirting with him. It just couldn’t be true, really, because, for one, Steve was a 1940’s army man, manliness itself, living legend and symbol of all that’s good and straight in America; and two, there were Diamondback, Sharon and those other beautiful sexy women, never a man, in Steve’s relationships track record.

So really, Tony was weak and it took a lot of self-control to not just answer Steve’s overly friendly and most probably innocent closeness with horny, sex charged touches of his own. He felt like a leech around him. He needed to get laid desperately. It had been a long while, at least for former Tony Stark playboy billionaire, since having had some good times –-that he remembered. He was even willing to admit that he’d be drooling over, God forbade, Maria Hill if it weren’t for Steve, whose efforts to rekindle their broken friendship had turned him into his pent up lust’s primary target and, if he didn’t hook him up with the Asgardian chick soon so he’d leave him alone, unwilling victim too. And that would be disastrous. Steve was too good, too noble to be subjected to that. Sadly, between Avenger’s business, his Stark Resilient ambitious project, the Hammer women’s scheming and Pepper’s Rescue issues, he had little to no time to find someone for himself. Plus thanks to bankruptcy being a general turn off for most women -–at least the ones he used to date–- and due to his past mistakes, Tony didn’t seem to be quite the popular man as of late. It still wasn’t excuse enough, though. Poor Steve deserved a lot, lot better.

There was that time too, when he had felt something for Pepper but the now literal repulsion between them and Happy’s death he learned from his personal research of the past forgotten events had taken her out of the picture. Which was good because Pepper was one of his closest friends and he depended too much on her to lose her over something as silly as a fling that would never be more than that, a fling; since it was already a proven fact that a relationship would never work between them. They just weren’t made for it.

“I can’t see your face but I know just by the way you are standing that you haven’t slept at all and that you are torturing yourself with some ill self-hating thoughts,” reprimanded a fond voice from the workshop entrance, “I really wish you’d stop doing that. You are a good man, Tony. A beautiful good man,” closer now, Steve started to softly massage Tony’s tired shoulders. “Also, you are never up this early unless you’ve skipped sleep,” he whispered into Tony’s ear.

Tony’s heart flipped. “Steve,” he breathed without looking at his friend. Eyes glued to the workbench, hands gripping its edges.

“You are so tense. Is something wrong?” Steve’s hands were so warm, so gentle on him; Tony’s body succumbed to his caring and slowly started to relax. He unconsciously leaned into the touch.

“Nothing, just been working all night on this… this thing,” Tony replied nodding towards his most recent project. Steve pressed his face next to Tony’s, never stopping the massage, and eyed the machine scrunching his face. He let out a loud suffering sigh.

“For the sake of enjoying a peaceful, nice day with you I’ll overlook your bad sleeping habits for today but,” Steve’s voice was scolding yet playful; his hands still working out his knotted muscles, “I must ask, what is it for?”

“It’s to create a temporal bridge to the Asgardian Hel, see? Then we can specify some search parameters, magick energy parameters so we can travel to Asgard or the other realms --we’ll have to ask Thor some help with that, by the way-- and then we--" Tony started to explain when a kiss to his jaw left him wordless, mouth gaping open like a fish. This couldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening and thanks to Steve’s amazing massaging skills his body was totally disconnected from his brain. He was emotionally uneasy but his body was just too relaxed to react accordingly.

“I know what happened in Hel was special Tony. I replay that night in my mind every day, every night. I’ll never forget it; I don’t want to ever forget it. It was magical”. Having finished with his shoulders and neck, Steve hands went downward, soft and enticing, making Tony feel like turning into putty. God, this would be the death of him. “But I don’t need to go back there to relive it. We don’t need to go to other dimensions or anywhere else, Tony. We’ve got each other now and, hopefully, forever.” Thick thumbs rubbed soothing circles on his back, long strong fingers splayed along the expanse of knotted muscle kneaded and soothed. When had Steve’s hands ended up under his shirt? Oh, but it felt so good, so never mind.

W-would it be considered sexual harassment if Tony turned around right now and kissed Steve silly? Yes it would, because he was only being friendly and supportive in his as of late own strange ways. Why, why did these things always happen to him? It’s just like when he was in physical therapy with Veronica after Kathleen shot him except, well, eventually Veronica actually corresponded him, which wouldn’t ever happen with Steve. He was Captain America –-would always be-– and could do much better than a broken and very male ex-arms dealer, ex alcoholic, bankrupt hero-wannabe with self-steem issues.

“I told you to stop brooding,” reprimanded again Steve and turned him around. Tony could see warmth and that something else he still couldn’t quite recognize in those blue honest eyes that looked back at him. “Come here you silly,” said Steve and walked him to an open space in the room. He sported the most ridiculous but sexy case of bed hair, as if he’d just woken up and the first thing he’d done was to go looking for him. And apparently eat mints too, lots of them. Funny. He had on a pair of worn out sweats, his favorite, Tony remembered them from their sparring sessions; Steve would wear them whenever they were clean, they really showed up his sculpted legs and ass. And that shirt, that shirt actually looked like one Tony had worn back when he had the chest plate and had to wear shirts a size or two bigger than his normal size. It stretched slightly over his wide chest. _Hot damn!_ He fixed his stare on a random point in the far wall, the shop’s door, anywhere but the blond Greek sculpture-esque man before him.

Steve embraced him loosely; placing both his hands on the sides of his waist, and nuzzled his neck with what anyone would call a contented sigh.

It wouldn’t be sexual harassment if Tony wasn’t misinterpreting Steve’s signals and he was really being flirted with, blatantly even, and not just being the recipient of innocent friendly physical comfort, right? Steve could be seducing him for all he knew and maybe if Tony flirted back, maybe if he… No, no, no. Steve was straight as a ruler; Steve was only being a sweet and nice friend. Not only would Tony end up losing forever his other best friend besides Rhodey, you couldn’t sink any lower than sexually harassing a national hope and goodwill icon. If people hated his guts now, they would plainly abhor him then.

“Tony, stop it,” Steve warned teasingly, and retrieved with a hand an old battered SI cell phone from his sweats’ side pocket. It was still functional. See? Stark tech had always been resistant, durable, dependable and years ahead of its time. This cell phone, old as it was, played mp3s perfectly, had a still fine –by today’s technologies standards– camera and customizing options. So why did people doubt him now about his electric car? Why?

Steve spared a quick glance to the cell phone’s screen and selected a song from the short list of music in there.

“A long while ago I asked Clint to teach me how to use this phone you gave me. One of the first things I did when finding out I could download music to it was to buy this song,” he confided with a sheepish smile. A faint music could be heard and then he raised the phone’s volume. As the music played, he rested his hand with the phone back on Tony’s waist and rocked both of them slowly, hiding his face in the crook between Tony’s neck and shoulders. Momentarily shocked by the feel of Steve’s breath on his skin, Tony had little mind to do anything but stiffly move along with him.

But then Tony saw the whole picture: two grown men swaying to _this_ song in the middle of Tony’s mess of a lab. Spare armor parts and chips all over. He chortled.

“Are we dancing then?” he asked laughing.

“To the glorious Billie Holiday,” replied Steve with a smile.

“And you are leading.” It wasn’t a question.

“Would you rather?” Steve asked not leaving his spot between Tony’s neck and shoulder.

It was a smooth, placid dance, undemanding and easy to follow despite being improvised. Although Tony was generally a good dancer, had been told as much, he wasn’t much for slow dances. If left to his own, Tony would come up with overelaborate steps that were often hard to follow so Tony stuck mostly to already learned steps and choreographies.

“No, I’m fine.”

And strange as it was, Tony understood the gesture. Steve was a good friend and was only trying to distract him from his gloom. He still couldn’t help to feel overwhelmed, though, not because he was dancing with another man; he’d danced with male friends before, but because it was Steve. Steve who couldn’t know what he was doing to Tony.

Steve’s smile widened as the lyrics began.

 _“Your eyes are blue, your kisses too,  
I never knew what they could do,  
I can't believe you're in love with me,” _

It felt nice, this unhurried dance, Steve moving him, guiding him through the easy steps. He let himself enjoy it and placed his hands on his friend’s arms. A tired sigh he hoped would go unnoticed escaped his lips as he finally surrendered and let go of all of his tension and worry.

 _“You are telling everyone I know,  
I'm on your mind, each place you go,  
They can't believe you're in love with me.”_

“I loved this song the very moment I heard it,” commented Steve, words ghosting against Tony’s neck, “I always wanted to dance to it with Gail but never had the chance. I was too poor to buy the record, too unlucky for it to play on the radio when we were together and then I went on to become Captain America and well, you know the rest.”

 _“I have always placed you far above me,  
I just can’t imagine that you love me.”_

Tony didn’t know what to say to that so he just kept silent, breathing in Steve’s scent. The song touched something inside him too. He could relate, he sincerely could.

 _“And after all is said and done,”_

“Then I just couldn’t find anyone I’d want to dance to it with. And it may sound wrong but it’s just that no one seemed to be special enough for me to bring up the song. So I never got to dance to it,” Steve tightened his hold on Tony, “Until now,” he added.

 _“It looks like I’m the lucky one,”_

How sad that Steve had given up looking for that special person for his especial song and had resorted to dance to it with his friend-turned-enemy-turned-friend. Tony let out a self-deprecating chuckle, “I’m sorry you’re wasting your song on me”.

Steve raised his head to look directly at him, eyes set ablaze, “I’m not.”

 _“I can’t believe you are in love with me.”_

Tony’s heart fluttered strangely as the song came to an end and warmth he was sure had never felt before, not like this, spread thorough his entire body under Steve’s intense stare. He couldn’t move.

Suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room, his chest felt heavy. Steve’s face was so close to his, a few inches and they’d be kissing. Inches that Steve didn’t seem to be aware were shortening by the second and soon would leave them lips on lips.

Tony turned his head to the side, a nose bumped against his cheek, “I-I-I think I should dismantle this stupid machine then,” blurted out nervously signaling at the bridge machine with a hand and trying to free himself from Steve’s embrace, lightly pushing against his chest, with the other.

“Tony,” pleaded Steve in a hoarse whisper, “don’t run away from me now. Please.”

“I’m not! Why would I? But I need to…” do anything to yes, get away from you, he didn’t say. His self-control was slipping and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t afford it with Steve. Tony was utterly, brokenly confused now and too tired, too needy, on the verge of a panic attack and—

Steve nuzzled his neck then and, very gently, bit him. Tony let out a groan.

And maybe STEVE WAS flirting with him, maybe he was INDEED seducing him or maybe he was being MIND controlled or he was a VAMPIRE intent on feeding on Tony’s blood and that’s why he was LAPPING at the bite or maybe the whole FUCKING world had turned UPSIDE DOWN and his ears were ringing and he’d become king of SEXuaL harASSment and then DOV CHARNEY would be so proud of him—

There was a deafening beeping sound and then silence. Tony had metaphorically and literally short-circuited. His brain was a goner, he was sure his body had just betrayed his better wishes embarrassing him with pointed evidence of his desire showing up in his pants and Steve was smiling foolishly at him saying something he couldn’t make out. Tony just nodded where he thought was appropriate, face blank.

Would he become a Super Soldier now? Because according to logic if bitten by a zombie you then become a zombie, if bitten by a vampire you then become a vampire, if bitten by a werewolf you then become a werewolf, so if bitten by a super soldier you then become a super soldier? Osborn had funny hair; he perhaps, had been bitten by a birthday party clown.

Maybe if he had been taken hostage by villainous automotive industrialists and had been forced to build the deadliest limousine out there he’d have become Limo Man instead of Iron Man.

Pi ought to taste delicious.

2+2 = 9

01100011 01110010 01101001 01110100 01101001 01100011 01100001 01101100 00100000 01110011 01111001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01101101 00100000 01100101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010

He watched Steve nervously leave the workshop, still smiling though.

Then Tony blinked and, looking at his wristwatch, found out that three hours had passed since then. He had to do something, he was supposed to be somewhere with someone but he couldn’t remember what or with whom he was supposed to meet. He walked out of the room waiting for his brain to finish rebooting and to slowly start rearranging his thoughts and memories.

 _  
_

***

  


“Us! I’m talking about _US_ , Tony!” not quite shouted Steve. “Us and this relationship you seem to not want to acknowledge!” he gestured wildly between them.

Tony’s jaw dropped, his eyes went comically wide. He gaped speechless while Steve stared angrily at him clearly waiting for a response. When Tony finally gathered himself enough to process what he’d just heard, he asked with a trembling voice, “A relationship? As in a romantic relationship?” It was getting hard for him to breathe.

“Well, YES!” answered Steve exasperated.

Tony swallowed. So something HAD happened before he deleted his brain after all. Otherwise he had no recollection of anything but friendship going on between them. Except that, apparently, he had been in a relationship with goddamn Captain America this whole time without even knowing it.

“When exactly did this happen?” he asked warily.

“Good Heavens! What’s wrong with you, Tony? We slept together in Hel! I asked you when we came back to Earth if you were okay with having a relationship and you agreed yet you keep on refusing me!” explained Steve, imploring eyes, shaky voice. “You even were about to tell Spider-Man I was sexually harassing you today!” his voice almost, almost cracked.

“We slept together? Like, with sex involved?” asked Tony not so very eloquently. This whole situation was insane. The whole world was insane.

It explained everything, though: the touches, the looks, and the incidents at the Hall, the Avengers Meeting Room and the Workshop.

“YES! At the village!” and now Steve was shouting. Then he mumbled, face going red, “We did it ‘till we couldn’t keep awake anymore”.

And that’s why Tony hated magic and everything related to it. It screwed with you, toyed with you, created illusions and false—

“No Steve, we didn’t,” rasped Tony, a lump in his throat.

“What?” Steve gave him a haunted look, “What are you saying?”

“We didn’t sleep together in Hel, Steve,” repeated Tony.

Steve gave him a befuddled look, shook his head, dropped on the sofa next to Tony with a devastated expression on his face. Shoulders slouched, head in his hands, eyes on the floor.

“But, but we did. I was hurt. I had gotten hurt fighting some unwelcoming elves at the village’s pub just after we got separated,” Steve voice was low, only for Tony to hear, “Mageth tended my wounds and told me to stay the night so I’d heal completely but I couldn’t, you know? I was worried about you and Thor. I told her as much and even more. I poured my heart to her. Told her about the war, about how I felt back then and how I felt after.”

Tony listened attentively to him trying to put the pieces together.

“She insisted on me staying. I didn’t listen, instead readied myself to leave, that’s when she told me there had been spotted another stranger in the village that matched your description and promised to go look for you if I waited in her place. So I did. I was really worried about you Tony. You were wearing an old armor and you were supposed to be resting from the operation. You never listen; you always end up overexerting yourself, Tony. You worry me all the time”.

Well, Steve was just the same. Just because he had the super soldier serum didn’t mean he could forego rest after being wounded in battle. But he did, he was stubborn like that. He had no right to judge Tony in that regard, really.

“A few minutes later you came in. And we talked and we, we…” Steve shook his head again. Tony couldn’t see his face but his ears were bright pink, “Thor’s lightning woke me up later and you were already gone,” he finished with evident sadness in his voice.

“And all the time we supposedly were together in that house,” Tony hated to do this but he had to. It was the right and fair thing to do, “Where was that woman? Mageth? Because you see, ever since we got separated at the end of the siege and until after Thor’s thunder, I had been held captive and tortured by ogres and the dragon-man,” he said, “When did she come back?”

“Didn’t see her again until after I went out to look for you and you where naked on a horse and she found us arguing,” and right then realization seemed to down on him. Steve groaned pitifully, his entire body shook, “Oh God,” he almost sobbed, “Oh God, Tony”. He repeated and decidedly didn’t look at him. “It never happened, did it? Not with you,” voice so soft, a hardly audible whisper from a crushed man, “Of course I was making you uncomfortable. We had nothing”.

“Steve…”

“We had nothing,” said Steve again miserably, “I’ve made a fool out of myself. I broke up with Sharon, for you”.

So that’s why agent Carter had been giving him the evil eye. Well, one more mystery solved. He had thought they were off, too. It still didn’t make him feel any better. His best friend was hurting and he didn’t know what to do.

“I even told Hill to back off and leave you alone,” murmured Steve.

Oh, that, Tony would’ve liked to see. Hill had been particularly vicious towards him for unknown reasons since having been appointed leader of the newly put together Avengers team, and even before that, up until after last week. Probably when Steve had talked to her.

“And all this time we had nothing,” a mournful sigh accompanied the soft defeated words.

When Tony confronted defeat or loss, he usually tried to rationalize it. That’s how he dealt --or tried to deal-- with everything. So really, thinking well about the whole situation he found out that all in all, it could’ve been worse. It could’ve been Thor with whom Steve would’ve been led to believe he had had sex. He didn’t know how Thor would’ve dealt with Steve’s advances but he was sure it wouldn’t have been pretty. And Steve and Tony would’ve still be mad at each other, would’ve never made up while Steve tried to smooch Thor.

Wait. Wait a minute.

Then the only reason Steve had made up with him had been because—

“You are a jerk,” called out Tony outraged, “You only made up with me because you thought we were fucking!” Tony could do angry. It was way better than that other thing he was feeling and couldn’t, wouldn’t name.

Steve flinched. Still didn’t look up at him, though. Pink ears taking on a crimson shade. “Not now, Tony,” he warned, voice not quite cracking.

“Yes now! You are a hypocrite!” Being outraged definitely was easier than being sorry and helpless. It was the only way for Tony to get trough this for now. And he had the right to be outraged dammit! He wasn’t some kind of bimbo you were nice to just to get into his pants!

No, really, he wasn’t. Most of the time, anyway.

“Tony, please.”

Tony stood up brusquely, “And there I thought you were being friends with me again because you were noble and all that jazz everyone thinks you are. And I had missed you so much but you… you, you are a jerk,” he went behind the sofa and continued, “You are not the well of good will and integrity everyone takes you for. That, I know better than anyone”.

“Just leave me alone, Tony,” so faint, a heartbroken plea.

“You are obstinate, and play dirty. You lie too and can also be a jerk like everyone else. That must’ve been why we clashed and tried to kill each other.” In hindsight, that was something very mean and wrong to say but it was too late now to take the words back. Tony’s chest hurt, his eyes burned and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew he was being an asshole but he couldn’t help himself.

“Goddammit, leave me alone!” yelled Steve.

Tony said nothing more and left Steve to his own devices in the room.

He’d done it this time. He had completely busted whatever chance he had of ever fixing his friendship with Steve forever. It was all right, though. It was better this way.

Better for Steve. He’d be safe from the mess that was Tony and Tony, well, Tony knew Steve had pursued a relationship with him based on their technical ‘one night stand’ solely because Steve didn’t do ‘casual’ and had tried to do the right thing –-why he had left Sharon was still beyond him. It was the only possible explanation. So this way, Steve could be free. And Tony, well, Tony had nothing else to lose and his feelings didn’t really ever matter.

Now the next time they fought, it’d be less personal, less destructive since there would be nothing between them, no friendship and no illusory relationship incensing them. No passions to fuel the conflict, no feelings to betray.

He wanted to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veronica is one of the many exes of Tony Stark. Learn about her and some others here.
> 
> You can find Steve's song here <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykP8Wtcg86w>
> 
> And, who is Dov Charney? Well, just Google him. You’ll understand...
> 
> As for the chapter title:  
> “IT WOULD BE NICE IF SOMETHING MADE SENSE FOR A CHANGE” / Lewis Carrol’s Alice in Wonderland.


	4. I CAN SPEAK FRENCH BUT I CANNOT UNDERSTAND IT

**For** a whole month, Steve had been the happiest man on Earth.

He had found his soul mate, someone who fully understood him as a team mate, as a man with the fate of the world on his back –-leading SHIELD and supervising all of the Avengers teams was very stressful-– and as a simple man without labels, just Steven Rogers.

He had been feeling superb, having understood at least where all of that explosive animosity that made his fights with Iron Man so spectacular came from and finding out peace with the answer, happiness with the solution, and a warmth he hadn’t felt for a long time in his heart with the outcome.

Tony was smart, beautiful and always tried his best to help everyone. He had a charm you just couldn’t ignore. It was impossible not to fall for him. All this time, Steve had loved him without realizing that was why he felt the way he did whenever something where Tony or Iron Man were involved happened.

For a whole month, Steve thought Tony loved him.

Now the truth had come forth, what had seemed too good to be real had turned to be exactly that: A lie.

His heart was broken. He was mourning the loss of something he hadn’t even had to begin with.

On occasions, he had been so jealous of everyone around Tony because he had flirted back when being flirted at. Because Tony had been friendly, yes, but distant as a partner and they hadn’t had a single moment to reacquaint themselves to each other’s bodies since Hel, and he had wanted so badly to feel that slightly slender but firm body pressed to him again.

He even had thought briefly that he was being cheated on. He had suspected of Hill, of Pepper, of Rhodes and even of Thor. But not having found any proof, he had let himself relax and enjoy the fact the he and Tony were together.

Only to find out it wasn’t true. Tony had been feeling awkward around him because to him they were only friends while to Steve they were a couple. Because Tony touched him as a comrade and Steve touched him as a lover.

Of course Tony felt he was being sexually harassed. He was right to be angry. However, overcome by loss, Steve couldn’t even bring himself to correct Tony’s belief that they had made up only because he thought they had slept together. Couldn’t muster the strength to look at him, talk to him properly and tell him they still would’ve been friends again because that’s what Steve had wanted ever since coming back. They would have argued more before it could happen, that much was true, but in the end they would still have made up because self-aware of it or not, Steve loved Tony; no war could ever change that. And lost as he had felt then, he had even balefully snarled to him.

Not that any of it mattered anymore. Tony hated him now, and Steve was devastated.

  


*

  


 **Hela’s Hel, one month ago.**

The whole village was hostile, it seemed, but Steve was ready to fight his way through it. He had to find Thor and Tony. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to any of his comrades.

Thor could probably fend off for himself if need be, Tony however…

Tony. God, Tony. He was wearing one of his oldest armors and had been brought back from a persistent vegetative state throughout a complicated high-risk surgery first and, later, by a ritual in charge of Dr. Strange. He had shown a strong front when he’d come to back them up against Osborn but he couldn’t really be feeling that well. He had to find Tony.

  


**

  


Mageth was a nice woman. He hadn’t wanted to accept it but he had some severe wounds that needed tending. It was good to know not everyone in this village sought him dead. She had lent him an ear, paid attention to his every word, and he had talked about it all: the betrayal, the clashing with his friends, the war, the deaths, his own supposed death and his fight against Red Skull to regain control over his own body. He hadn’t known why at first, but it had been so easy to talk to her. Turned out she was an empath.

“You should rest, Steven. I have done what was within my power to aid you yet your body remains weak. I am sure Lord Thor and your good friend are still going to fare well if you rest your weary body for a while,” Mageth suggested with concerned eyes, having finished applying a balm of her own concoction on one of his largest wounds. She then proceeded to bandage him with some worn out pieces of fabric that had been around.

“I worry all the same Mageth, more so for Tony. We didn’t part on the best of terms and I, I—“ Steve started to protest but Mageth stopped him with a gentle hand to his mouth.

“I know,” her smile was warm, comprehending, “About that war of yours, the suffering and struggles of your precious friends, the hardships you all have faced. Nevertheless, you must see how a man in your condition wouldst be of little assistance to Lord Thor, your friend Anthony or yourself. In these lands you are going to encounter conflict wherever you go and only the strong strive,” she said reasonably.

Steve understood but, “I won’t be taken down easily and I won’t forsake either Thor or Tony,” replied Steve with an air of finality to his words. He stood up just as Mageth finished bandaging his wounds, the small bed where he was being treated creaking in response, and made to put back on his black shirt and the scale mail he had looted along some swords and a shield from his previous battle at the pub. A light hesitant hand on his back stopped him a few inches from the doorstep.

“Wait,” begged Mageth softly, “I-I may have heard tales of a stranger other than you roaming around the village from the menfolk at the pub,” she continued cautiously, and said no more, waiting for Steve to turn to face her.

Steve turned slowly, looked at her skeptically. “Yes?”

Her eyes were intense on his, searching, he saw doubt flash momentarily in them. “Dark hair, azure eyes,” she seemed to be expecting some reaction from Steve but he remained blank, “Fair skinned, trimmed facial hair, wears an armor of a certain nature never seen around these lands before. It is golden like the sun as well as crimson like fresh blood.”

That description fitted Tony so well. It had to be Tony; he wanted it to be Tony. However, Steve couldn’t let himself relax just yet. “Is that true? Where is he?” He needed to go and find Tony, make sure the man was still in one piece.

“I shall go look for him in your stead so long as you promise to remain at my place and wait,” Mageth’s posture and face were apprehensive. Something was bothering her. Maybe Tony wasn’t okay. Maybe he was being held prisoner or, Heaven forbid, tortured. Steve had to get to him. Now.

“I’ll go with you,” demanded Steve, jaw set.

“No, you cannot. You are injured and ‘they’ are still out there, in the village. You mustn’t go out while they are around. Let them take what they want and go back to their barren fields,” she warned, voice tight, eyes pleading.

“But—“ started to argue Steve when she cut him in.

“I promise that I shall bring him back in safety, only if you stay here and wait. I beg of you to accept this.”

Alright, Steve could try. He’d wait a few minutes but if anything seemed off or wrong he’d go out and look for Mageth and Tony himself.

He said as much to his concerned host who smiled ruefully and left hurriedly.

Steve waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Steve had already polished five times the swords, the shield and the scale mail. He had paced around the small house, had stared for a while at the fire that lit the place and was generally just growing restless. He had also taken off his shirt at some point to fix some of its holes with Mageth’s archaic sewing kit’s help and now it rested close to the bed. He was about to put it on and go out to look for her and Tony when he heard noises outside.

There was a metallic sound at the door, some thumping, bumping and a grunt. The door opened. Steve readied himself to battle the intruder.

It was Tony. Helmet in hand, gloves under an arm.

Tony looked tiredly at him, a lazy smile on his face.

“There you are,” greeted Tony, and walked in.

Steve barely let him in a few steps before grabbing him by the arms and dragging him closer to have a better look, “Tony! You are okay!”

Tony looked well, worn out but well nonetheless. He was thankfully unhurt for which Steve felt relieved.

“We should go look for Thor now,” said Steve and his friend’s eyes widened.

“No,” was Tony’s hasty reply, “Let’s, let’s stay here for a little while. I’m tired and you don’t look any better than me, honestly.” He dropped the helmet and gloves on the floor and traced lightly over Steve’s exposed wounds with his fingers, a shy feather-like touch that made him suppress shiver. “You took off your bandages,” Tony muttered reproachfully, taking his hand away.

How had Tony known about his bandages was unclear. Maybe he had just guessed. He was smart like that. Sometimes. Steve didn’t dwell too much on it, glad to have the man back safe and sound and instead made to go for his meager belongings in the room.

“As if you didn’t do it too,” he pointed back, “We need to regroup and make a plan. Find out about this place and how to go home,” his tone of voice made it clear it wasn’t up for discussion. When he bent down to gather the swords a hand came to rest tentatively on his back, making him straighten up immediately.

Tony looked directly at him, a certain urge in his eyes, “Steve, please. Don’t be so stubborn. Let’s talk? We have a talk pending, don’t we?” Tony said and gave him a conciliatory smile.

Steve felt anger well up in his chest. So it was more important for Tony to argue about past things he didn’t even remember now than go looking for his lost comrade?

He grabbed Tony’s hand with bruising strength and felt guiltily pleased at his surprised gasp. He pulled Tony to the bed in the room, threw him over it. “Sit,” he said, “Let’s talk then,” voice tight. He sat next to him.

“Steve,” Tony began but Steve interrupted him.

“You sold yourself to the government and then sold your friends too. You didn’t even warn us, you just went and did whatever you perversely decided was better for everyone by yourself. You were selfish and presumptuous. You betrayed us. You betrayed me,” he was about to add more when Tony raised a hand in a halting motion.

“See, the thing is, you didn’t even let me talk. You don’t listen to me. You didn’t very well listen to me back then either.” Tony’s eyes pinned him, intense as if reading him. “And you know it.”

Steve’s self-righteous anger slightly subsided. He let out a sigh and not being able to stand Tony’s focused gaze on him anymore, looked at some random point in the room.

“You didn’t trust anyone to talk about it first,” argued Steve, “To help you before you went and made a mess out of everything. I think that’s what hurt me the most,” he added still not looking at the other man. It hadn’t been quite an appropriate answer to what Tony had said but it was what he felt and he’d had to say it, “You didn’t go to me first.”

There was a short silence. Then Tony replied, “That’s not new either. The trust issue, I mean. It wasn’t the first time I did something like that, although not in such a large scale --I’ll give you that-- but I always go and do what I think is right by myself. So what was different this time?” he questioned reasonably.

Steve shook his head in frustration and huffed with a disbelieving tense smile on his face. “You could’ve trusted me,” he retorted, “We’ve known each other for such a long time. We’ve lived through so much together, we’d been friends for years and you still won’t trust me,” he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“I trust you with my life,” said Tony.

“You don’t care about your life at all Tony,” answered Steve with sadness.

“I-“ Tony seemed at a loss for words so Steve decided to keep on talking.

“You hid your secret identity from me and everyone until you were forced to reveal it, you hid your heart condition and your stolen armors’ crisis from me too, and tried to do everything alone even after I had to go and fight you. You didn’t even trust me about your alcoholism. I had to, God, carry you passed out in my arms out of a fire,” this last part coming out a little muffled. Steve’s father had been an alcoholic and seeing Tony going down the same path had been terribly hard. He had opened his heart to him back then, telling him about that very private and painful part of his past that even now only Tony knew about and he had refused his help. With a shattered heart, Steve had forced himself to leave his friend then because as shameful as it was to admit it, he hadn’t felt strong enough to fight it all over again, alone. Just like he had tried to help his father and had failed miserably, he found himself too tired, too scared to face the monster that was eating Tony away on his own.

Finally Tony seemed to have found his voice and spoke, “We are, or were, already best friends. I can’t trust you more than I already do. I can’t give you more than I already do,” he rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder, lips upturned into a small amiable smile; “Even best friends keep secrets from each other.”

“I don’t keep secrets from you Tony,” Steve shook Tony’s hand off and looked at him with a frown, “And I don’t like you keeping them from me.” It was true. Now that he thought about it, all it came down to was that: trust. He wanted Tony to trust him with absolutely everything, which he had to admit sounded pretty selfish. But it was the truth.

And somehow this talk wasn’t about the war anymore but their feelings. How had it deviated so, he didn’t know. He did know he still had a lot in his chest he needed to let out and that it felt good to do so.

“I want more Tony,” he surprised himself confessing, “Your complete trust. So this doesn’t happen again. So I don’t have to fight against you anymore but just fight alongside you.”

Tony who had remained silent was staring strangely at him, “You have it all. All I can give you,” he assured him.

“So I want more,” Steve repeated, fire in his eyes, heart throbbing wildly. “I, I need more. Always needed more, wanted more from you.” It was the first time he voiced such thoughts. Ever since he met Iron Man, the metal avenger had been in his mind constantly. The Falcon used to tease him because, one way or another, he always ended up talking about Iron Man or Tony Stark. And then he used to seek Tony’s company whenever he was in the mansion, and later in the tower. Felt hurt, betrayed, wounded every time he found out Tony had hid something from him or lied.

And then it hit him.

Wide eyed, with helplessness and wonder in his voice, Steve declared at least, “I want you, Tony.” It was such a big revelation even for himself. He never quite knew what it was but he had always felt it. Everything was clear now, though. “All of you Tony. I want all of you: the good, the bad, everything,” and his face grew hotter with each word.

Tony was speechless with the stunned expression of a deer in the headlights. He looked wildly around, looked everywhere but to Steve who, feeling bold, adrenaline pumping through his veins, took Tony’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together. It was a sweet, slow kiss that… wasn’t being returned. Tony’s lack of response, his stiff posture and wide alarmed eyes when Steve opened his to look at him, made his heart sink. He broke the kiss, hands flying to his lap, and lowered his gaze. His face was burning.

Silence fell over both of them and just when Steve thought he couldn’t bear it anymore, Tony broke it.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he rasped touching delicately over his lips, “I didn’t know. You didn’t show it,” he said with a voice so faint that Steve’s peak human hearing almost didn’t pick it up.

Steve stood up abruptly, and went for the shield and armor next to the table in the room, his movements sharp. He’d made a huge humiliating mistake and he couldn’t have chosen a worst time to destroy even further whatever he’d been planning on salvaging of his and Tony’s friendship.

“Yeah, I know,” replied with a tight voice, face hot, “Let’s just forget about it and go look for Thor.” It was a disaster. What had Steve been thinking when he confessed to Tony and kissed him? He started to put on his black T-Shirt, next would be the scale mail.

Tony was at his side in an instant, “Wait,” he said and grabbing him by the shoulders, turned him around, “I--“ Tony seemed unsure of whatever he was about to say and Steve, quite frankly, just wanted all of this awkward situation to simply be over already so he shrugged free, shirt in hand, and cut him in.

“It’s alright Tony. Let’s just go.”

“No. Listen. I,” said Tony desperately and after a muttered “Shouldn’t be doing this,” kissed him. It was good: heated, thorough, sweet. Just like Steve imagined Tony’s kisses would be.

From time to time he had seen Tony and his dates in the papers, the TV, at the charities and wondered how a kiss from Tony would feel. He had never thought much of it, chalking it to normal curiosity. All the women seemed to melt against him when his lips touched theirs, then after the kiss they’d look at him with dazed and adoring eyes; it was natural for Steve to be curious about Tony’s kissing skills. He’d admit too, that he had also contemplated about his sex prowess. No woman seemed to complain ever and then there were those rumors and gossip about his sexual ‘expertise’ that made his imagination run wild. He had often wondered how Tony would be in bed. Probably eager, playful, unabashed. Twice or trice he had imagined Tony during sex. He had felt guilty because Tony was his friend. Still, he hadn’t found such thoughts too weird, it happened when you where close to someone without really having to mean something, so he had just let it go.

Steve opened his mouth to grant Tony access and taking the invitation, Tony deepened the kiss. His tongue danced with Steve’s, a sensual slide of flesh and then left, coaxing Steve’s tongue to follow into his own mouth where he suckled at it. Steve moaned into the kiss and pushed Tony backwards toward the small bed while Tony’s hands caressed his back, his shoulders, his arms, and then his back again.

Steve broke the kiss, nipped at Tony’s lower lip and got a whimper from him “Steve,” he said with a strained voice.

“I want you Tony,” replied Steve, kissing alongside his jaw, “Please.” He licked what little expanse of Tony’s neck the armor didn’t cover and Tony moaned a ‘yes’. Hearing Tony moan like that because of him made his blood rush south, his skin prickle with anticipation. Tony made to take his armor off but Steve stopped him.

“Let me,” he licked Tony’s lips and Tony parted them waiting for a kiss that didn’t come. Instead, Steve pressed his thumb inside for Tony to suck, which he did in earnest. It felt so good. He wanted to feel that wonderful mouth on himself, so much.

“Want me to suck you off Steve?” asked Tony sultrily, looking at Steve from under his lashes. Steve growled, grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him into a bruising kiss, his free hand feeling up the armor, looking for the joints and catches, trying to peel it off unsuccessfully.

Just when his frustration seemed about to get the better of him, he remembered his override code for this armor, which he voiced quickly to… no effect. The lust haze receded just enough for him to back off and give Tony a hurt look.

“What?” prompted Tony breathless, face flushed.

“My override code,” Steve panted, distress clear in his strained voice. “It doesn’t work anymore. You changed it, even when—“ _you didn’t use this armor anymore because you had the Extremis one._ Steve knew he didn’t have to feel so hurt, it had been the logical thing to do, they had been at war with each other after all.

“Oh, the…override code, yes. No. I didn’t change it,” Tony’s eyes had cleared and he seemed to be focusing hard on something, his face scrunched in concentration. “Maybe you didn’t say it clear enough? It’s been a while since I wore this armor. Try again?” He sounded less ragged, more composed now. He was still flushed, though.

It was weird, that one of Tony’s creations would malfunction so, as far as he knew, the man made regular maintenance on his armors –all of them--, but Steve tried again anyway. He waited for the armor to fly away from Tony, which it did after a few seconds delay.

“There,” smiled Tony, now completely naked before him.

Steve’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Tony naked. No, but now was different and he could let himself appreciate, really appreciate, Tony’s beautiful body all he wanted, every inch of skin, every muscle, every curve and angle. And it made all the difference. He pushed Tony once more onto the bed, and then proceeded to take off his own pants and underwear to the other man’s hungry stare.

Once he covered Tony’s body with his own, the feel of skin on skin, their shared heat and Tony’s smell –roses mixed with something fruity, weird, he’d expected metal, wood, sweat–, made him let out a satisfied groan; it was fantastic, electric, intoxicating. He’d wanted this for so long without even really knowing how much. “Tony,” he breathed and skimmed the writhing body under him with his hands. He caressed Tony’s sides, licked and bit his neck, his collarbone, squeezed appreciatively each one of the round, firm butt cheeks.

Tony made approving noises, moaned his name, clutched his arms and encircled him with those beautiful slender legs of his.

Steve wanted all of Tony. He’d have all of Tony. “C’mon Tony,” he demanded, caressing the toned muscled thighs around his waist.

Tony tangled his hands in blond hair and pulled Steve down for a wild kiss. Their teeth clicked, and then their tongues met on their way to each other’s mouth and danced and fought, Tony surrendering at last, letting Steve in to ravage him.

When they separated for air, Tony smirked, a sparkle in his eyes, “Yes,” he panted. He let go of Steve, put his hands on his chest, “I know just how you want me. So let me,” he asked as he lightly pushed him away.

Tony managed to roll both of them and now he was straddling Steve. “You want me to ride you, don’t you?” Steve made a small soft sound and thrust upwards involuntarily, his hands going to Tony’s hips to trace small circles over smooth skin. He did want Tony to ride him.

“God, yes Tony. Yes. Please,” Yes, he wanted to feel the heat of Tony around his member, he wanted see him going down on him, working himself on his length. “There should be something here we can use,” he rasped and felt quite pleased on having been able to form a coherent sentence when all he could feel was his brain turning into mush with the burning desire to claim Tony.

Tony gave him a heated smile and looked around. “Yes, there is,” he said eyeing a jar sitting in one of the house’s feeble shelves. He sauntered over to pick up the jar. Steve followed him with his eyes, drinking in every detail of Tony’s lean body, his long back, well-defined rear, toned arms, and strong thighs.

Repositioning himself over Steve, Tony opened the jar in his hands, licked his lips and dipped two fingers inside; they came out covered in a slick transparent fluid. Steve eyed him hungrily and tried to follow his actions but Tony stopped him. “Let me. You lie down and enjoy the show,” he said and turned around so Steve was left with a view of his back and delicious ass.

Tony teased himself, circling his hole with those nimble fingers Steve had always admired and liked, coated in the strange viscous liquid; his body shaking. Tony let out a soft moan as a finger went in and moved. Steve bucked, breath hitching, heart racing. Tony looked so hot. He ached to be inside him. It was too much. He stroked Tony’s thighs, then his back, and spread the firm globes in time for Tony to add a second finger.

“Like what you see, soldier?” asked playfully Tony, he let out a gasp then as Steve slid a slicked finger of his own to circle around his entrance and then explore where Tony’s fingers and hole connected. He’d gotten a hold of the jar and wasn’t going to just watch if he could also touch.

“Yes,” chocked Steve in reply. “I do, I do, please, Tony,” he said, voice rough.

“You’ll fuck me hard and fast, won’t you, Steve?” Tony’s voice was strained, his body rocking now with three fingers in, eyes closed, mouth slack. Steve couldn’t help thrusting his hips once, twice. He shuddered in pleasure when his cock touched Tony’s balls briefly. It was driving him mad, the urge to fuck Tony stupid, to ravish him. He grunted a yes, groaned a please, moaned a ‘Tony’.

Tony slipped his fingers free with a whine that made Steve growl in desperation. He turned around to face him, standing over Steve’s dick and supporting himself with one hand over his chest, using his free one to guide the thick, leaking erection into his opening.

“God, Steve,” he moaned, Steve’s cock pressed just there, not breaching in yet. “I, oh God, I don’t know if it’ll fit. You’re so big,” he slid down slowly and moaned again brokenly, his eyes were closed tight, a frown lining his forehead, “So big.” It almost undid Steve right there. Which would’ve been embarrassing but good heavens, he was so turned on, so worked up and Tony’s words didn’t help any. His cock throbbed, his abdomen contracted with anticipation and his hands clutched at Tony’s hips. He couldn’t just give in yet.

“Christ, Tony. You are killing me,” he groaned as Tony sank slowly onto him, a high-pitched cry caught in the other man’s throat.

“So big, so good,” breathed Tony hoarsely, face in a grimace.

“Tony,” called Steve worried through the lust haze, he didn’t want to hurt Tony. No matter how amazing it felt, how deliciously he was being squeezed inside that incredible heat, if he was hurting him, he’d stop.

“I’m fine Steve. I love it,” sobbed the man above him and then Steve was all the way in. It was incredible, the burning embrace of Tony all around him.

“God, Tony, you feel amazing,” he wanted to move so badly but he wouldn’t do it unless the other asked him to; he didn’t want to hurt him, he’d be patient. His hands stroked Tony’s hipbones reverently, then his sides, down again to his thighs.

“Stay still,” commanded Tony with glazed eyes, gasping for air, both hands on Steve’s torso. And then he rode Steve in earnest, whimpering, whining and moaning all along. Steve made fevered noises of his own, lost in pleasure and Tony.

He’d leave bruises and he didn’t care. He was actually thrilled to mark Tony; everyone would know this wonderful sensuous man was his alone.

“Fuck, Steve!” cried Tony and clamped down hard on Steve. He climaxed all over Steve’s belly and the sight of Tony lost in ecstasy, spurts of white on his abdomen and chest, brought Steve to his own completion. He closed his eyes and saw stars. Gripping Tony hard and holding him still while both of them gave into their orgasm, he gave three upward aftershock thrusts. A few seconds later, Tony licked him clean and then collapsed onto him like a ragdoll, completely wrung out.

When their breathing had evened enough, Tony laughed, face hidden in Steve’s chest. “Wow,” he said, “I wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted.

“It was fantastic, Tony.” Steve traced abstract patterns on Tony’s back, his other hand pillowing his own head. It felt good, to be able to touch him like this, unhurriedly and lovingly, after having had the most fantastic sex he remembered ever having. “You are fantastic,” he added, kissing Tony’s hair.

They lay there basking in their afterglow for a while when Steve remembered they were still missing Thor. He knew he was missing someone else but right now couldn’t remember whom.

“We should ready ourselves and go find Thor… and Mageth,” he said, finally remembering the woman who hadn’t come back with Tony, which was strange and unsettling. Tony puffed an annoyed breath onto his neck, which he had been nuzzling and showering with feathery kisses.

“Don’t you ever give up? No, don’t answer that,” grumbled Tony irritated, hiding his face within the juncture of Steve’s neck and shoulders, tightening the loose hold of his arm over his torso. “I’m so frigging tired I could sleep for a hundred years.”

Steve chuckled, a low rumble on his chest that made Tony look up. “It’s ok, Tony. You can stay here and rest. Thor and I will come to pick you up later,” because he’d find Thor, not finding him wasn’t an option and Tony would be safe in here as long as he didn’t leave the house.

“You’re hurt and tired too, stay with me a little longer,” whined Tony, supporting himself on an arm so he could lean down and plant a chaste kiss over Steve’s lips.

“We have no time—“ Steve couldn’t help the gasp nor the moan that followed. Tony was fondling him, stroking ever so slowly, so delightfully, his dick, playing softly and carefully with his balls. “God Tony, you can’t possibly…” gulped Steve.

“No. Not yet, but you can,” clever hands brought to life Steve’s cock once more, roused him to hardness. The Super Soldier Serum had given him truly unmatched abilities in all regards which all of his post-serum partners had appreciated to a great extent. “And I want you to use me,” he whispered into Steve’s ear, his voice silky and full of dirty promises. “I’d love for you to take me hard again. Even if I can’t still get it up, I want it, I need it,” he added, now kneeling on the mattress by Steve’s side, caressing his nipples with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied with giving him a mind-boggling handjob. “Please.”

Steve couldn’t say no to Tony, couldn’t deny him or himself what they both wanted so he rolled over, pinned the other man to the mattress and, kissing him passionately, went for a second round.

  


***

  


After the fourth go, Steve had to concede that his eyes felt heavy, and his body was quite reluctant to do anything but lie in bed with Tony, who was dead to the world, snoring and muttering unintelligible nonsense next to him –something about magic potions and memory loss. He couldn’t believe it but here he was, in bed with Tony Stark, friend, teammate, and now –and hopefully long after today– lover. For the first time since being defrosted, he truly felt on top of the world.

He’d have to talk to Sharon. The status of their relationship, if there was still one, was ambiguous at most as of late. He’d have to know what was between them and what wasn’t, what it was that Sharon expected and then tell her why it had to end or why it couldn’t be anymore. He’d have to confess his slip with Tony too –if it could be considered a slip at all.

  


**

  


There was a roar, then lighting and another roar followed again by lighting.

That’s how Steve woke up to the sound of thunder. The room was dark, the chimney extinguished, only ashes remained. Not a single trace of light around. Not even Tony’s arc reactor. That and the lack of a certain body’s warmth and weight to which he had fallen asleep under, as well as the very empty space to his side he felt when his hand explored wildly around for Tony, informed him that he was alone in bed.

Steve stood up and walked cautiously toward the chimney where he managed to light up a small fire to illuminate the place. He then gave a look around the room confirming he was the only living being in the house. Tony and his armor were gone. Not a single trace of him having been there at all was left, not even his smell. Something twisted painfully in his chest, waking up with Tony gone made him feel a kind of desolated pain, sadness and hurt he hadn’t experienced since before the serum.

He felt toyed with and thrown away. He still had to find Thor and Mageth and apparently Tony again. The thunder that woke him up had been Thor’s, he was sure.

But first, Tony. He had to be around the village somewhere. He couldn’t have run off too far. With an odd mixture of anger and sadness Steve left Mageth’s home to look for Tony. He didn’t even bother to put on more clothes than his pants. He had to hurry if he wanted to get to him before he left the village.

  


*

  


There had been a small commotion outside the village but it hadn’t seemed like something that would’ve needed his intervention so Steve had ignored it in lieu of searching for Tony. It had settled soon enough though, and Steve, having had run around everywhere, found himself near the limits of the village, flushed by the exertion and inner anguish he was trying to suppress with all he had. There were still no signs of Tony. He had asked the villagers and no one had even seen someone with his description before at all.

Darn.

He heard the distinct sound of hooves. A horse.

“Oh Steve! God, Steve, it’s you!” called out a familiar voice. Steve looked at the village’s entrance to find Tony approaching him. Naked. On a horse.

He seemed to have been riding at full speed, just slowing down when spotting him.

“I’m so glad to see you!” said Tony again, coming to a full stop in front of him. The horse neighed a half-hearted protest.

Steve’s chest contracted and suddenly he wasn’t angry, no, but he was immensely sad. Because Tony had left him. And in a real haste, apparently, since he hadn’t bothered to put the armor back on before trying to flee by horse even. And now here he was, caught red-handed and, adding insult to injury, acting as if he hadn’t just slept with Steve and left.

“You ran away from me.”

“What?” replied Tony, and if he hadn’t been there himself with Tony a few moments ago, Steve would’ve believed his innocent perplexed expression. “What are you talking about? I’ve just— Listen, I’ve had the most awful—“

Steve wasn’t taking it. No, not this time. “You left!” he shouted.

“The hell?” Tony was such a good actor. He seemed genuinely taken aback by Steve’s words. His puzzled frown turned to one of annoyance.

“Steve,” said Tony evenly, pointing at him, “look at you,” he pointed back to himself, “Now look a me.” Steve just stared. “I’m on a horse,” finished Tony. “Naked,” he added.

“So what?” replied Steve, not knowing where the other man was going at with it at all.

“So you think that I’d rather nude-ride than to be with you?” As soon as Steve opened his mouth to reply he added hastily, a blush creeping his face, “That didn’t come out quite alright. Don’t answer.”

Tony tried to climb down and --curse his caring-- Steve was there in a second to help him. Taking his arm, letting him balance himself with a hand gripping his shoulder.

“My ass hurts,” huffed Tony once his feet touched ground, “Like you have no idea. And let’s not talk about other parts, damn dragon-man,” he limped away from Steve and looked around, “What’s this place anyway?”

Steve’s face was burning red; of course Tony’s ass would hurt after what they had done and then the naked horse ride to top it off. Just thinking about the reason behind his limping sent a spike of arousal through Steve’s body. And then, suddenly, he wanted to know how would it be to sleep and wake up next to Tony, everyday, for the rest of their lives, as corny as it sounded. Which reminded him of “Why did you leave me Tony?” the other man turned to him with a confused look on his face.

“I didn’t. How would I? First we were there, then we weren’t and then I was captured by ogres and their dragon-man-thing-whatever leader who tortured me and tried to kill me. I just got away.”

Steve snorted derisively which seemed to annoy Tony, “You were never very creative when it came to lying,” he said shaking his head disbelievingly.

“I’m not lying! Just take look at me!” And truth be told, Tony was bruised everywhere and was that a burn right on his left shoulder? Steve was tempted to believe him, his act was so convincing, he even had a mangled body to prove his claims, but he could’ve hurt himself, as he usually did, in his haste to leave. Or the villagers could’ve attacked him on his way out. After all, the people around here were still hostile to strangers and the only reason they didn’t mess with Steve anymore was because he had beat them all to a pulp when they had tried. He had the now healing –thanks to Mageth’s care and a rest he was sexually tricked into taking– wounds to attest to it.

“I dunno what is it with you now Rogers, but I—“ Tony seemed angry, how Tony of him to try to turn the tables on him. God, Steve was so tired of it.

“You have no right to take offense, at all. You played me, again,” he cut in, indignant, “I would’ve noticed if you had been captured.” How would have anyone been able to take Tony away without him ever noticing? He had enhanced senses, super reflexes and special army training.

“How could you have noticed?” answered Tony with exasperation, throwing his arms out to accentuate his frustration, “You just don’t want to believe me. You deliberately want to be mad at me! I’m betting it’s because of what I don’t even remember anymore! But you’ll be ever so sorry when the dragon-guy shows up and you’ll see, you’ll see—“

“Oh , please Tony, is that a threat? Are you threatening me?” This was unconceivable! Tony could be so maddening, so infuriating. Steve had been a fool to believe anything would have ever come out of their shared episode a little while ago. He must’ve known Tony would hide in his denials and rationalizations as soon as he felt cornered or had time to ‘think it better’ because for as much as Tony was brave in battle, unyielding in his principles, his company, his armor, he was also a coward when it came to his own feelings. He had serious self-esteem issues for someone so brilliant. “You are not expecting me to believe ogres came by to snare only you away. Don’t underestimate my intelligence, I might not be a genius like you but I’m not stupid!” he retorted equally frustrated.

“For the love of— You, stubborn man, drive me nuts!“

“YOU drive me nuts.”

And Tony was about to reply when a soft gasp followed by crashing made them both turn to see a woman, Mageth, who looked as if she had just seen a ghost. The crashing sounds had been some jars and plates with strange liquids and foods inside. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, eyes fixed on Tony, body almost unnoticeably shaking in panicked fear.

“Well, I know I’m a striking sight but really,” started Tony but couldn’t finish as a booming voice behind them bellowed, “There you are, pig! I’ll kill you, rip you apart and eat your bones!”

Tony would later swear time and time again to Steve that he hadn’t squeaked, and Steve would let it go with a fond, bemused smile. “Steve!” he shrieked and hid behind him.

Tony hadn’t been lying. Tony had been kidnapped right under his nose, and Steve hadn’t noticed! Of course they would’ve come for him, he was the more vulnerable of them both. Without his armor Tony was just a man, no powers, no special skills save for his brain. He wasn’t match for anyone here by himself alone.

Those bastards.

They had tortured him.

And Steve hadn’t noticed he’d been taken away. Hadn’t woken up to protect him when they had come for him.

And then he hadn’t believed him about his calvary. Had immediately thought ill of him. Since when had he begun to expect only the worst from him? How could Tony trust him completely if Steve didn’t respond in kind?

Furious at himself for doubting Tony, at the world and its stupid super-human war that made him distrust his best friend, and then at the awful monster that had dared to snatch him and hurt him ran through his veins, an incensing fire. Without hesitation, Steve ran up to the dragon and knocked it out with his swords. The ogres that had come after it were no match either for his strength and rage.

“I take back almost everything I have ever said,” gasped Tony openly amazed at his display.  
Steve turned to him and wrapped his mangled friend in a soft embrace, mindful of his aches. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he said humbly.

“S’kay,” replied Tony as he was let go. He retreated a few more steps and helped a still scared out of her lights Mageth gather her shattered pottery. “So hum, any chance you’d have some spare clothes around? It’s kind of cold,” he asked looking briefly at Steve. Then, softly, to Mageth, he said, having finished helping her gather the broken pieces, “There you go ma’am,” to which he got a whispered “Thank you” in return.

“Oh yeah, you are naked,” observed Steve lamely.

“Actually, I’m wearing my new ‘see through’ armor. How you liking it so far?” came Tony’s blithe reply. Steve shook his head and chuckled.

“I-I might have some spares,” offered a faint female voice. She was still eyeing mournfully her spilled green gooey drink, now making a puddle of mud in the ground.

“Thanks, Mageth, by the way, where were you?” asked Steve as he guided Tony to the house with a hand on his back, Mageth leading the way. She didn’t answer.

Curiously enough, Mageth was limping as heavily as Tony was. She must’ve been gotten hurt when she’d gone to retrieve Tony last night. Steve would have to ask her about it later and see to her injuries just as she had seen to his.

  


**

  


“-so I left the armor at their camp, must still be there,” Tony was saying as he eyed himself on an old dusty mirror in Mageth’s place. “I think this one brings out my eyes pretty well,” he joked doing a turn, showing off the baby blue dress Mageth had lent to him.

“I apologize for the only robes I possess are of the female persuasion,” she murmured while serving them some drinks.

“You could always wear my black shirt,” suggested Steve who then felt his blood rush at the image of Tony clad only in his black shirt. He struggled to will away the enticing thought. Now wasn’t the time. Thor was still missing and they had to go find him.

“And smell like Eau de Steve later?” retorted Tony with a grin, “Thanks but no thanks, Captain.”

The words stirred in Steve a strange possessive feeling over the other man he wasn’t even aware was capable of feeling. He didn’t understand why his responses were being so strong. Then again, his reactions had always been strong when it came to Tony.

“So what was that weird stuff in the jars?” asked Tony casually to Mageth with whom he, much to Steve’s amusement, had been trying to flirt with all this time unsuccessfully. Tony would always be Tony.

“Nothing important, not anymore at least,” she replied ruefully.

The whole time since coming for provisions and clothing as well as Steve’s equipment, Mageth had been shooting wary glances at Tony whenever the other man had his attention occupied elsewhere but her. It was somehow understandable from what Steve had told her about Tony and their spectacular fight that she’d be distrustful of him. Every time she looked at Steve, though, he tried to reassure her with a smile that everything was alright, that Tony was a good man no matter his overt teasing and dry comments. She always responded with a sweet smile of her own.

They prepared themselves quickly for their awaiting journey with Mageth’s help, and soon enough they were ready to part in search of Thor.

“Hop on,” ordered Steve from the horse Tony had brought with him, ready to go.

Tony looked around, “There’s got to be another horse around.”

There ought to be, yes, but they had no time to waste –they still needed to go fetch Tony’s armor– and to be honest, he wanted to feel Tony’s arms around him. “Hope on! Let’s go,” he commanded once more.

“Any excuse to get me to hold onto you,” quipped Tony.

“You see right through me.”

And then, after getting Tony back in his armor, they went for their lost friend.

  


***

  


The first thing Steve did when setting feet back at Stark Tower was to drag Tony to the kitchen to have some privacy and talk about their little trifle in Hel. It was important to clarify what would happen between them from now on. What would or wouldn’t come of it. Steve didn’t want to cause unnecessary pain to Sharon even though it’d kill him if Tony hadn’t been serious about their time in Hel and refused a relationship with him. He hoped he didn’t, he hoped Tony corresponded his feelings and he hoped more than anything that they could have something together.

Steve hadn’t felt this way for someone in… a long, very long while.

It was as if once he had looked, really looked, inside himself and found out the actual nature of his worry, frustration and then fondness for the other man, he couldn’t hold the feeling anymore, it was too strong, too much, it was consuming. He was doing his best to keep control but he couldn’t help to smile goofily at Tony whenever their eyes met. He had it bad.

And he knew that maybe right then wasn’t the better of times to have ‘the talk’, they had gone literally through hell, they were tired, injured, hungry even, and Tony was, admittedly, the most beaten up of the three. But he needed to know. The floundering state of his relationship-not-relationship with Sharon didn’t bother him as half as the one with Tony did. So he went and asked.

“Yeah? I don’t mind, really. I’m completely fine with it. You can even do a repeat if you find out how to and if you like. I mean, well, I would want to do a repeat too.” Tony had seemed a bit out of it at first, most probably out of weariness. Yet there it was, the answer he had so wanted to hear. Steve felt an embarrassing giddiness overtake him and couldn’t contain the resulting elated grin. And Tony wanted a repeat! Good Heavens, Steve wanted one too.

“I know this is pretty big for you and seriously, whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’ll be here. I’ll help you out,” Tony was smiling.

Yeah, it was pretty big for Steve, and Tony understood, of course he would. He was one of the few people who understood him the best. He knew Steve like almost no one else did. How could Steve not love him?

Steve had had his share of encounters –art school, the army– yes, but he had never been in an actual romantic relationship with another man before. He still needed confirmation, a reassurance that Tony hadn’t ‘just said it’ and that he really understood what they both were getting into.

“So we are good. It’s okay to pursue this, right? This relationship. ” Steve’s heart was throbbing fast. Fast like that time he had asked Betty to dance at that one festival back in art school.

“Yep. Fine with me. See where it goes and all that. We are good.” Nothing felt better than hearing those words come out of the other man’s mouth, that beautiful and very kissable mouth. He could kiss him, he wanted to kiss him, he was going to kiss him. Tony was blushing; Steve made to move closer and then…

Tony yawned. He even seemed taken aback, as if the yawn had caught him by surprise, which was what most probably happened.

He was obviously tired. Steve had been selfish, pushing him this far when he clearly needed to rest. Feeling guilty, he softened his voice and brushed tentative fingers against Tony’s drowsy face.

“You should go get some sleep, Tony. You are still recovering,” the kiss could wait. Everything could wait now that they were settled. “I’ll come over later. Okay?” Maybe he’d give Tony a massage to help him relax. Maybe they’d get to do that ‘repeat’ Tony talked about if they had the energy for it, otherwise they could sleep, just sleep, together. He’d like that.

“Sure,” answered Tony scrunching his face as if in confusion. Definitely tired. The man needed to sleep ASAP. “Go to sleep. Now.” Urged Steve with a soft loving smile.

  


**

  


So Tony hadn’t wanted to share a room.

Steve had been waiting for him outside his room for roughly an hour and then Tony had shot him down. It was okay, though, very understandable. Steve did his best to hide the hurt he had felt then.

It had been a draining day.

After having sent Tony to sleep, which he had done on a couch much to Steve’s discontentment, he’d gone off to try and put things back in order. First, the chaos the SHRA had left -he hadn’t got to do much, though. It’d take a while, there was too much pain, to many broken friendships, too much distrust between everyone, meta or human alike and then all that political and legal clutter in between–, then S.H.I.E.L.D/H.A.M.M.E.R’S state –he hadn’t, again, accomplished as much as he had wanted to either. Osborn and Hand had done a number with the databases, specially with their people’s databases–, the status of all of the Avengers, every avenger he had been able to find, and everyone else that had helped in battle at Asgard; and lastly, Sharon and whatever it had been they had had.

It hadn’t gone quite as he’d expected but in the end Sharon had held his hand and told him she’d be fine with a sad smile. She had said it’d take her a while to see him again, that she’d need a few days to sort herself out but that in the end, there would be no hard feelings between them. She seemed as if she had wanted to tell him something else, her face pained, but she didn’t. Instead, she had left abruptly, leaving him alone in the little café where they had agreed on meeting that day.

Steve had been feeling horrible for the rest of the day. He still did.

He had needed a break.

And then Tony hadn’t wanted to share a room. Not even for one night. He had acted frustratingly coy to avoid it.

But Steve had reminded himself that it had been barely a day since they had gotten together and that, considering Tony’s track record, maybe he’d been rushing things a bit so he had let him do as he had wanted. Tony had a reputation when it came to dating but Steve knew better than to take said reputation at face value; what the majority of people thought they knew about Tony Stark was often more fiction than fact. He should know, he knew Tony.

He still felt kind of bitter to be sleeping separately, but he’d wait. He could wait for Tony to be ready. Because, well, good things can’t be rushed and even though Tony and him had known each other for years, being involved romantically always changed things whether you wanted it or not. No normal couple started sharing a room ever from the first day of becoming involved. And now he was embarrassed for having had tried to do so with Tony.

So he had let it go, chiding himself for having been forceful.

They were just getting started after all.

  


*

  


Tony was taking his time. He hadn’t initiated anything so far and his touches remained platonic but it was okay. He had expected Tony to seek him out, to make the first moves; such as he usually did with his partners –that Steve had known of. He had expected him to assert himself more in the relationship. However, it was as if they were just very close friends, nothing more and nothing less.

But Steve was a patient man and he loved Tony so he’d respect him and wait for him to finally come around.

  


**

  


Maybe if Steve pushed a little, Tony would react, somehow. Thus, he had become more open in his displays of affection. He’d touch Tony more –he was allowed to and so it was a right he was more than happy to abuse– and drop hints here and there. Assure him he didn’t mind public opinion if that’s what was bothering him –which knowing him probably was.

It’s not as if Steve didn’t feel embarrassed sometimes too because, well, back in his days relationships where more slow paced, more innocent in some ways; and he didn’t like to push people around. He felt bad coercing anyone into anything. But maybe it was because these times were getting to him, and because he knew how easily you could lose the people you love in this business they both were in, maybe it was that Tony gave him not a single signal, not a single hint of their relationship being at least acknowledged by him, and Steve needed that recognition; and so Steve was growing impatient against his better wishes.

Tony was deaf and blind to all of his subtleties.

  


***

  


Tony usually tensed, if slightly, whenever Steve was intimate with him, be it a touch, a word, a slight insinuation. It saddened him to see the man he loved ward off from his attentions.

  


**

  


So why where Thor and Tony so buddy-buddy as of late? He was glad they were on good terms again but did Tony have to be such a flirt all the time? Maybe it was something he did unconsciously. He had always flirted with Steve, Carol and everyone. Even Pepper and Happy. He had toned it down, though, when he had gotten serious with that girl Rumiko.

Thor didn’t have to tease back either, but he did.

Steve wasn’t jealous. No, he wasn’t and wouldn’t be.

  


*

  


How come that War Machine had gotten to spend more time with Tony in a single day than Steve had in the whole week so far? And it was glaringly obvious that Rhodes and Tony were pretty close to each other in a way Steve and Tony weren’t. Tony could’ve asked Steve to that party he was throwing to attract investors and he would’ve gone with him, Avengers’ paperwork be damned. But he hadn’t. He had taken Rhodes and Pepper with him. Taking Pepper was understandable, she was his right hand and she helped him with the company. Rhodes, however, had gone just to accompany him. And didn’t the man have a girlfriend he could’ve taken to the party?

Then Tony never stiffened when War Machine hugged or touched him. The sad thing was that he didn’t use to do it either with Steve before that damn whole SHRA mess.

He wasn’t petty and he wasn’t jealous but suddenly War Machine was the best agent for off planet missions.

  


**

  


Tony was too preoccupied with his company, his car and many more things such as that Detroit Steel guy and had little time for anything else. Steve wasn’t any better with all of the Avenger’s teams and national security to look out for. He knew and understood all of that but he still missed Tony.

  


***

  


Pepper had been acting a bit off toward Tony but after all the things he had put her through it was understandable. She stared at him this particular way, as if she knew something secret about him that nobody else, not even Tony himself, knew about. It was unsettling and Steve wondered what it was.

  


**

  


Steve didn’t know Hill very well but he recognized sexual tension when he saw it. Maybe assigning Tony to risky missions, shouting and reprimanding him over everything and sometimes even over nothing at all, was her very personal way of flirting but it wasn’t doing any good to anyone. The way she manhandled his, well, boyfriend, and openly ogled him when she thought no one was looking didn’t settle well with Steve either.

After the scene both of them made in the meeting hall this morning during a debriefing in which Steve had been present, he decided that he would be having a word with her.

She had exploded over a stupid comment Tony had made about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s women and sex –something about uniforms and domination– and then everyone was fleeing the room except for Steve, who had to break the two of them apart.

Tony was an idiot, but he’d always been that way, Hill could’ve handled it better.

Steve had tried to be professional when talking to Maria but the way she referred to Tony, as if she knew him intimately, as if they had already had something together made him finally snap and just tell her to leave Tony alone because the man was already his. Though he had used a different wording, it had still been quite shameful.

  


*

  


“You’re the top dog now! Can you tell me that you’re not overworking, too? No, right? But I don’t call you on it, do I? Because I understand how it is. You should—” Tony had been angry but he had also stopped midsentence, thought better of whatever he had been about to say and had apologized to Steve for his harshness.

Steve had had to rein his own rising temper too. It had been a stressful week and he had rarely seen Tony, hadn’t spent time with him at all, and that plus the man’s reticence, coyness and then evasiveness whenever Steve made advances to him had been putting him on edge. Steve would’ve never imagined that Tony could be such a cold lover.

So Steve had held himself together and, considerate of Tony’s general state, he had voiced his concerns about their relationship as tactfully as he could. Tony, tired as he was, had seemed to comprehend the situation nonetheless and had promised to clear his schedule to spend a whole day together.

Steve had been thrilled.

He’d go to Tony’s room tonight so they could fall sleep and then wake up together, he would make breakfast for him, they could go running together, then they could just hang around the Tower and talk. He’d take him out to his favorite restaurant for lunch, they could rent a movie to watch together, he’d make dinner too and afterwards they could go back to bed and lay together. Or simply do whatever Tony wanted to do.

One thing was for sure: he’d get Tony to dance with him his favorite song.

  


**

  


Intending on following through his plan, comfortably outstretched on Tony’s bed and waiting for him to come to sleep, Steve thought things were finally moving forward.

He fell asleep waiting and woke up alone the next day.

  


***

  


Tony had stayed all night building a machine to travel through the Asgardian nine realms, apparently –it would’ve been so much easier to just ask Thor but Tony could be so stubborn sometimes. Did it mean the coldness and avoidance were because he didn’t like being with Steve here but he felt it was okay to do so somewhere else, though? That… that could make sense in a very twisted sort of way, one in which, sadly, Tony’s brain tended to function frequently. They weren’t like those cowboys in that movie Jan had brought with her that one movie night long ago, were they? They didn’t need to hide nor did they need a far away place to love each other freely nowadays.

Steve let out a long-suffering sigh, he was just too happy to be able to spend the whole day together so he was wiling to give him a free pass just this once; they’d have the usual talk regarding Tony’s alarmingly unhealthy sleeping habits or lack thereof, later. For the time being, though, he was more concerned with assuring his partner that they didn’t need to go hopping dimensions to be happy together. Because Tony seemed to be in a brooding mood today and obviously needed to hear it; he had been brooding when Steve had come down to look for him immediately after having woken up alone, again, and he was brooding now too, probably over something Steve had just said.

Tony was with his back to him, eyes fixed on his newest creation but it was obvious, at least for Steve who had known him for quite a long time, that he was mentally torturing himself.

“I told you to stop brooding,” reprimanded Steve and turned Tony around. The man was a mess, he had grease stains all over his tank top and worn out jeans, his fingers were black with soot and his hair stuck out everywhere. He looked cute, in a way. Not that he’d ever say it out loud, Tony didn’t appreciate being described as such. He also looked a bit disoriented. It had to be the lack of sleep.

“Come here you silly,” said Steve and took Tony away from his workbench to an open space in the room. He was oddly quiet and he seemed to tense a little when Steve embraced him, breath hitching somewhat when Steve nuzzled his neck letting out a sigh he couldn’t hold in. They were finally alone, they would spend a whole day together and Tony was in his arms. It was perfect.

Steve fished his cell phone and looked for the song he was yearning to share with his lover.

And they danced.

Although he had been tense at first, Tony had eased later within Steve’s embrace. He seemed to be enjoying himself, the languid dance helping him relax. Steve told him then about the song. About how he had wanted to dance it with someone special for a long time, never having the chance to.

 _“I can’t believe you are in love with me,”_

The first time Steve had heard the song, he had immediately thought about Betty Grant, his first crush. She had been in Art School with him and he had been hopelessly in love with her. A smart and charming dame, everyone had wanted to court Betty and she had always had plenty of boys to choose from so, really, how could she have had eyes for a scrawny timid boy like Steve? And true to that, she never had. Those stunning blue eyes of hers had never even looked at him twice. Just like he had once thought -in a rare bygone afternoon a long long time ago in which he had let himself dwell on silly thoughts about his iron friend- wouldn’t ever happen with Tony either.

“I’m sorry you’re wasting it with me,” came Tony’s response accompanied by a self-deprecating chuckle. Steve paused; he still couldn’t comprehend how Tony could regard himself so lowly. That he would think Steve’s favorite song was being wasted on him was disheartening.

Tony was an amazing man, an admirable warrior, a loyal friend, a reliable partner, a talented genius; he was beautiful and attractive. Steve couldn’t believe Tony, the charming ladies-man Tony, could be in love with him and yet here was the man thinking himself unworthy of Steve’s special song.

Steve shot Tony and intense look, hoping to convey with it all the love, the respect and the admiration he felt for him. “I’m not,” he replied softly.

The song went on but they weren’t dancing anymore. Slowly, not letting his eyes away from the stunned man in front of him, Steve leaned in for a kiss, heart throbbing. They hadn’t kissed ever since that time in Hel. Steve’s lips were close, so close to Tony’s now, their breath mingling. He felt his face heat up; he ached for this kiss.

And Tony turned towards the darn machine he’d built. Steve’s nose bumped against a cheekbone.

“I-I-I think I should dismantle this stupid machine then,” stammered Tony and Steve cursed internally when he felt a hand pushing him hesitantly away. He wouldn’t let him do it this time, though. He could understand the avoidance in public, Steve felt extremely self-conscious too when it came to public displays of affection, and he could understand it too in battle, since it affected one’s performance but not here in Tony’s workshop. They were alone; this was their time alone.

“Tony,” whispered Steve hoping Tony could hear the hidden plea in his voice, “Don’t run away from me now. Please.”

Tony babbled an excuse that Steve wouldn’t hear nor wouldn’t let him finish verbalizing. He nuzzled the long tan neck and not able to hold himself back anymore –he had wanted to do this for a while now- gave him a gentle bite. Tony’s skin tasted good, so good, even better than he remembered. He also smelled better, his scent this time smelled more right than it had done last time at Mageth’s house. It was overwhelming, Steve was becoming aroused and, embarrassed, hoped it wouldn’t show because then Tony might grow really anxious and leave, as it had often happened whenever Steve had shown or hinted this kind of interest in him these past few days.

Tony, however, just went still and Steve, worried, was about to ask him what was wrong when he felt something poke his thigh.

Oh.

So…. Tony was interested too. Steve felt a giddy relief; finally Tony was showing interest in him. He couldn’t help the dopey grin that took over his face nor the blush that followed either.

“Oh Tony. I want you too. So much. You have no idea,” Steve told him, Tony’s gaze was unfocused. It was kind of unsettling actually. He seemed so out of it. Steve knew it had to be Tony’s sleep deprivation doing it. “But you must sleep first. You are tired, I can tell, and I won’t let you overexert yourself.” He scratched the back of his head nervously then rested a hand gently on Tony’s face. “How about you take a nap and when you wake up I take you out for lunch?” he offered.

Tony nodded absently. Steve didn’t want to leave him like this but he needed to go and make sure everything was ready for today and specially tonight, their first night together after coming back from Hel. And Tony obviously needed the space too, he was acting… weird. It was unnerving.

So Steve left after asking Tony if he would sleep in the workshop’s cot, getting another distracted nod in response. Steve left feeling anxious, waving an equally anxious goodbye.

Tony didn’t wave back.

  


**

  


Someone was sexually harassing Tony. Peter had said as much and Tony was in a frenzy so they couldn’t be joking. If they were, well, they better not be joking. Sexual harassment wasn’t something to make fun of. Back in the army there had been cases between officers and privates and it had always made his blood boil, had earned him a few interventions when he had given a ‘piece of his mind’ to certain officers about it too. No one had the rights to make another person feel objectified, dirty nor unhappy like that.

Some people would think that Tony, being Tony, was impervious to such a problem but they would be very mistaken. Tony was objectified everyday in magazines, on the news, in that daunting thing known as the Internet and he seemed to like the attention, enjoy even some of those ‘creative transformative works of fiction’ about himself that he would read from time to time with an amused smile on his face but Steve knew better. To be sexually harassed was scary and made you feel a wilting helplessness that ate you slowly away.

Steve would not allow Tony to be intimidated by anyone, whether he wanted it or not, liked it or not, he would look over him. He’d protect him. Tony hated to ask for help, he always preferred to do everything by himself, he was so trusting and untrusting at the same time, but Steve was here for him. Steve would be here for him this time no matter what because he hadn’t been there for him when he had needed it the most before and look how that had turned out.

Tony, however, didn’t want to talk about it. Tony was trying to divert his attention and change the subject. Steve would have none of that and the man almost in hysterics snapped just when Bucky and everyone else were coming in.

“I’m not being sexually harassed, dammit!” cried Tony flailing his arms around exasperated, “And certainly not by Logan! Geez!”

The friendly chatter stopped and all the looks were on Tony. Steve himself, though, had his eyes on a certain clawed avenger.

He couldn’t believe Logan would show that kind of behavior. Not toward Tony, not toward another fellow Avenger. It was unacceptable but truth be told Wolverine had some unorthodox ways of dealing with people that could come off as a bit too aggressive and were easily misunderstood. Tony hadn’t felt threatened by his behavior before though, so something must’ve changed.

Steve glared his best ‘you are in trouble, sir, if you don’t come up with an acceptable explanation soon’ to Logan hoping he’d come front and clarify the issue. He returned his glare but remained silent.

“Logan?” prompted Steve. He could feel all the eyes in the room on himself and on his teammate.

“Yes?” came the terse reply.

Peter was fidgeting uneasily. Tony panicked.

“NO, damn damn damn! You are an idiot Peter!”

“I’d like to talk to you, Logan,” said Steve not quite threatening. Yet. He liked to think that he knew Logan well enough so he just wanted to clear this ‘sexual harassment’ issue. He refused to completely believe the man would upset Tony, or anyone for that matter, in such a way.

“I ain’t molesting Stark if that’s what ya think, bub.” Logan’s voice was terse. He spared a contemptuous look at Tony before looking back at Steve.

“Of course you are not!” Tony shouted.

“Ain’t my type. Nice ass though,” finished Wolverine with a mocking leer. It took the best of Steve’s self-control not to fall for the taunt. Honest appreciation or not, hearing other people praise lasciviously his boyfriend’s attributes didn’t settle well with him. He wasn’t the jealous or possessive type but--

“WHAT THE HELL?!” squeaked Tony, arms in the air.

Everything then happened pretty fast.

Wolverine seemingly had tossed the ball to Peter, which had made Steve turn annoyed at the young man. Sexual Harassment was a serious matter not to be taken lightly and he didn’t think Peter would be lying so something else was going on in here because Tony had indeed seemed quite distressed.

But then Tony had shrieked, everyone had turned to look at him, including Steve and Wolverine had stayed long enough to give Steve a curt ‘Ain’t molesting no one, ya should know better’ then ‘Gonna go for a beer’ and leave for the kitchen. Then everyone had too left the room except for Steve who had remained there with Tony, only to have his heart broken. To find out he had been the one making Tony uncomfortable.

Tony had never loved Steve.

Tony and Steve had never had anything going on but a terribly big misunderstanding.

Steve had been, in a way, sexually harassing his once best friend and then to top it off, had made him mad because of yet another misunderstanding he wasn’t sure he’d be able –or even be given the chance to try– to set straight.

  


*

  


 **Present day, after Steve and Tony’s confrontation.**

Tony left Steve alone in the Tower’s living room only to come face to face with a clearly ticked-off Maria Hill.

“Stark,” she greeted acerbically, her eyes pinning him.

“Hill, what an unwelcome surprise. Look, whatever it is, couldn’t it wait ‘til later?” he tried to negotiate an escape from what would be a most unpleasant conversation, more so after what had just transpired between him and Steve.

“No,” was her curt answer, “Not when you are telling people I’m sexually harassing you,” she added, fire in her eyes.

“Oh God,” groaned Tony, “I’ve never done such a thing!“ he stated bewildered. He never wanted to hear the words ‘sexual harassment’ ever again in his life.

“Rogers came to me the other day and told me to, and I quote, ‘Back off’”, she informed him. “That whatever problem I had with you I was to bring it to him because, and I’m quoting here again, ‘I’m taking care of Tony now’”, she sneered.

“Oh that, well, is not what you think. I’d love to explain but I don’t think I could,” Tony reasoned nervously. He couldn’t tell Maria about Steve’s confusion.

“Then I find you talking about sexual harassment to Spider boy and Rogers there and everything clicked,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’m not afraid of him, and personally, I find it disgusting that you’d shield yourself behind him like that, abusing your friendship, which I thought, given past circumstances, would be over and far beyond repair." Tony rolled his eyes. He had thought just about the same. Funny how Maria and him seemed to think very similarly sometimes. It was scary. He could see, though, how they could've been close back when he had no one else left, when he was fighting Osborn. Pepper had told him all about how loyal and helpful she had been then and had her in high regards.

"I don’t care if he’s my boss or not, I’m still gonna make you sweat. I’m still gonna do and say whatever I want with and to you,” she finished fiercely. “Because I’m not scared, and I won’t let you get any special treatment. You aren’t special Stark,” she snarled. "You never were", she muttered to herself.

What a mess. At least she hadn’t interpreted Steve’s intervention the right, and terrible, way. She was very obviously upset and he knew hell was waiting for him from today on but, well, sometimes you won and sometimes you had to just suck it up.

“Alright. I’m sorry. Not happening again,” he conceded tiredly, letting out a long sigh.

“It better not. You are going to MODOK’s last known whereabouts to investigate and bring back any evidence you find about his latest rumored super-project. By yourself. Also, there’s a Unicorn’s successor on the loose, he’s all yours too,” she prompted and left hurriedly probably to her quarters. Dealing with a new Unicorn would be boring and that MODOK thing seemed to have the potential to give him a colossal headache. She had gone easy on him.

Horrible. Tony’s life was a horrible mess. If anyone asked –not that they would– he’d be sulking in the workshop all day. Because he had cleared his schedule today and no one was expecting him, nor wanted him, anywhere. Bambi had seemed pretty glad he was taking a day off and surely wouldn’t let him go back to work for the rest of the day nor would either Pepper or Rhodey if they caught him trying to. He had the whole day to disassemble the stupid bridge machine he had spent the whole night building and wallow in his own misery. How he was looking forward to it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rumiko Fujikawa was one of the girls Tony loved the most, you can learn more about her [here.](http://www.republiquelibre.org/cousture/bd/IRNMN5B.HTM)
> 
> Betty Grant is a made up character.
> 
> Chapter title:  
> "I CAN SPEAK FRENCH BUT I CANNOT UNDERSTAND IT” / Mark Twain.


	5. HAVE YOU BEEN TO THE LAND OF HAPPY?

" **S** o what do you think really happened?" asked Peter to Spiderwoman. They both were sitting on the rooftop taking a break while Tony and Noh-Varr cracked the code in which the information of the databases they'd retrieved from A.I.M. was encrypted. MODOK had escaped but they had been able to save some of the memory units before the whole base had exploded.

"I don't know. Why do you care, anyway?" replied Jessica clearly not wanting to discuss what had been bothering Peter these past days.

"Well, because! I mean, they were suddenly BFFs again after Asgard, and now they’re back to fighting," explained Spider-Man. Steve and Tony had been pretty close after that adventure they had had in Hel with Thor then suddenly, they were avoiding each other, all strange stares and not-quite flinching at the mention of the other's name.

"At least they’re keeping it to themselves this time, not dragging us into it and that's how I want it to stay," Jessica stared fixedly at the Quinjet. As if she had actually had the misfortune of living the big clash between those two herself, but Peter had to agree that it was good they were keeping their fight 'private'. Still...

"Steve's not in our Avengers team and Hill may be the leader now but it still feels as if mommy and daddy were fighting," Peter then paused to think over something. "Who do you think would be the mom? Tony doesn't quite strike me as very 'maternal'," he finally asked.

"I could've done without the mental image Spider-Man. Thank you," deadpanned Jessica, her mouth twitching. She was so totally stifling a laugh.

"This is serious," insisted Peter.

"Okay then, I'd say Steve's the mom," replied Jessica with a snicker.

Peter groaned and directed an annoyed look at her. Why was it so hard for people to take Spider-Man seriously? "Not that! I meant them fighting. It could have, I dunno, repercussions on the team's dynamics--"

"Steve's not in our team."

"--the boss-employee relationship--"

"Hill's in charge. Steve might be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Commander now and might have put the teams together but last I checked the Avengers are still independent from S.H.I.E.L.D. just like we've always been."

"--live together--"

"Tony moved to some house far away in the open with his R&D team to build something, last I heard. Besides, living in the same building isn't exactly the same as living together," and with that Spiderwoman seemed to end the argument.

Peter still felt uneasy. He didn't like the tenseness going around the Tower whenever Steve and Tony were in the same room. Plus they both had been kind of down too ever since that day when Tony told him about the—

“Do you think it has to do with that whole ‘sexual harassment’ incident of last week?” At that, Jessica shrugged lightly and finally looked at Peter.

“If you are so concerned, why don’t you ask them yourself? Didn’t you have a ‘moment’ with Tony a few weeks back? Aren’t you re-bonding with him or something? Haven’t you been looking for an excuse to talk to Steve since he came back?” she prompted finishing with a sigh and a lazy wave of her hand.

Like ‘sexual harassment’ was a good topic for casual chat with Cap --Steve--, or a discussion opener to a talk over the rift between him and Tony for that matter. ‘Hey, Steve/Tony, how’s that sexual harassment thing going? That what you fightin’ over? That’s silly you guys. Haha.’ Sure.

“So basically, it’s all bull,” came the synthesized mechanical voice of Iron Man behind them. Peter jumped, Jessica just looked at the red and gold figure walking towards them with Noh-Varr at his side.

“What does a farm animal have to do with anything?” Noh-Varr seemed miffed.

“You don’t get it. It’s an expression. It means it’s a hoax,” replied Iron Man. Could a synthetic voice sound amused? Noh-Varr made a non-committal sound and stopped walking, letting Tony get close to the spiders.

“Turns out I got my armored butt burned for nothing.” That had been comical, actually, how Tony had ended up with a blackened behind after trying to shield the A.I.M.’s memory units they were retrieving from the base’s explosion. “The rumored ‘super-weapon’ was just a ‘super-diversion’. Maria thinks MODOK’s up to something big if he needed to distract us so. And I concur,” said Tony to Jessica and Peter, “She’s calling for an emergency meeting.”

Spiderwoman stood up and walked to the stairs followed by Noh-Varr.

Iron Man and Spider-Man walked side-by-side back to the Tower.

  


*

  


In the end, Peter didn’t have the courage to ask either Steve or Tony about their pretty obvious avoidance of each other.

He’d tried but had ended up babbling about everything and anything at all which often got a fond smile from Tony and a resigned head shaking from Steve accompanied by a pat on the arm. He did notice, though, that Tony and Maria Hill were being friendlier toward one another. He also noticed the hurt look Steve gave the pair during the meeting. It was rare for Steve to be present in an Avenger’s meeting since he wasn’t technically part of the team but this time it concerned both the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. and that other Avengers teams he had going on.

“So what’s up with Hill and you?” asked Peter to Iron Man. They were looking over one of the weapons they had confiscated from an A.I.M. agent, a weapon that had taken down Carol alarmingly easily. They wouldn’t let it happen a second time.

“She’s actually nice to talk to when you get to know her. Really know her,” answered Tony casually, dismantling smoothly the not-quite-but-obviously-compensating-for-something-epythome-of-the-word-extreeeeme-oversized gun.

“She’s scary,” protested Peter and proceeded to hook the gun’s microcomputer to their specialized-analysis-only Avengers computer. Tony had to come up with better names for these things, seriously. Peter had some ideas. “You guys dating or something?” he gave a mock shudder.

“God no. We’re just friends,” Tony typed something into the S2AC –see? That’s what Peter was calling their computer now, wasn’t it better than “specialized-analysis-only computer”?–, and the room’s central monitor came to life screening some sort of unrecognizable code. The alarms went off. “MODOK’s an idiot,” huffed Tony before running to the mainframe’s keyboard to type away furiously.

“As viral takeovers attempts go, this one’s pretty weak,” Peter observed joining Iron Man at the big computer, “But I give him props for the creative programming,” he mused. Most of the command strings, once decrypted, were puns. Some of them were painfully forced, though.

“Yeah, funny little thing but it’s also quite vicious. I’ve contained it, for now, but it’ll take hours to clean the systems completely. And then some hours of re-scanning the entire frame and databases for me to be convinced everything’s clean,” then Tony groaned in frustration. “Here goes my jazz night out. Better tell Maria upfront or she’ll be pissed,” a finger pressed ‘enter’, a wall of commands took over the screen, and the world’s smartest engineer was out of the room looking for their shorthaired and short-tempered boss.

“Definitely dating,” thought Peter aloud.

  


**

  


For all she apparently hated his guts, Maria Hill had lent Tony an ear and a friendly shoulder after he’d spent three entire days moping in his workshop, when he hadn’t been away working on the Resilient car–unofficial name, Pepper said he should name it differently because of brand issues– or the Betty car. She had come down to the lab and thrown an icy glare at him.

“You are pathetic, Stark. Change and meet me up at the Tower’s entrance,” was all she had said before turning away to leave. Tony had been too scared, miserable and confused to do other than follow her orders and soon enough he had found himself in a cozy little café dining with her.

“Idiot didn’t know who he was really talking to.”

“Bet he got a surprise.”

“He actually soiled his pants.”

As Tony had almost laughed his lungs out, he had found out with great pleasure that it was surprisingly easy to chat with Maria Hill and that she did have a sense of humor after all, albeit a pretty crude one. She had smirked, not her usual devious, contemptuous nor smug smirk but a honestly amused one when he had related her part of his misadventures with the sentient armor which, yes, it had been quite dramatic at the time but in retrospect, quite funny too. Because, Y2K bug? Really? It had been an embarrassingly stupid overlook on his part.

Hill also had a way with technology and had been able to take in a fair amount of his techno babble, enough for him to talk without having to backpedal every other word neither to explain meanings or concepts nor to talk in over simplistic terms, which sometimes was a chat turn-off for him.

He had greatly enjoyed himself that day and the consequent days too.

It was strange that he’d find comfort in Maria Hill but then again if what Pepper had told him about her was true, it wasn’t the first time she had proved to be a reliable loyal friend. And why would Pepper lie?

“You guys dating or something?”

“God no. We’re just friends,” and that’s the way Tony wanted it to stay because he’d hate to lose another friend, and she was the closest he had to one within the Avengers right now. Thor had been supportive but Tony was too ashamed to simply accept his friendship back since he hadn’t apologized properly –not that he would do it or that Thor would accept it given their circumstances. Spider-Man was still hurt, even if he didn’t quite show it, and was trying his best to heal the strain between himself and Tony, but it’d take some time before they were truly comfortable with each other again. Spiderwoman had her own demons to battle –and Tony had already slept with her twice in the past, which made it kind of aaaawkward. Noh-Varr wasn’t what you’d call a people’s person, Wolverine was Wolverine and Bucky was plain scary not to mention he had always shown certain hostility towards him.

So no, thank you very much, Tony wasn’t dating Maria Hill nor would ever consider it for pretty much the same reasons he didn’t date Pepper. Plus he had just gotten out of a relationship from which he didn’t even known he had been a part of! He still had mixed feelings about the whole issue.

Tony loved Steve. It wasn’t something he had just recently discovered nor a sudden epiphany brought to him by some triggering event but something he had gradually, over the years, come to recognize and accept. The man had been his childhood hero, his friendship had been a beacon for Tony’s decisions, something precious in his life; he had a beautiful mind, a beautiful heart and a body to die for; his gaze always so blue, so intense, so honest. Somewhere along the way he’d fallen for him and he’d learned to live with it. Maybe there would have come a day he would’ve told Steve about his feelings, or he would’ve simply asked him out. Steve had never hinted to being gay or bisexual, though, so Tony had done little to act on this desires of his, some subtle flirting here or there had been as far as he had let himself go. He had been okay with their friendship. He couldn’t have asked for more and he had been content with what he—they had had.

Then suddenly Steve had thought they had had sex in Hel and then was pursuing a relationship with him, in fact, believing they were already in one, and had been apparently more than okay with it. So he wasn’t entirely straight, also, he apparently had had room in his heart for Tony after all, not anymore though, not after the spectacular mess Tony had made out of the Hel confusion issue, but he had had once. Only Tony, being Tony, couldn’t allow himself to believe it. He hadn’t believed it back then in the Tower’s living room and he still wouldn’t believe it today. It was too good to be true.

With these thoughts was that Tony arrived at Hill’s office.

“You messed up,” she said as a manner of greeting once he opened the door.

“Yeah. It’ll take hours to—“ started to explain Tony when Maria cut in.

“So what are you doing here? I doubt Spider-boy can do it all by himself any faster,” her words were harsh but her eyes spoke a different story. She knew and she understood.

They had talked about the ‘sexual harassment’ misunderstanding of before and she had been pretty mad, but they had cleared it –without Tony having to reveal anything about the non-relationship he’d had with Steve. After that she had recognized her harshness toward him and that was how their ‘friendship’ had started to really build up. It had seemed as if she had let go of something very heavy when she had admitted grudgingly that ‘this’ Tony –she had emphasized the differentiation– didn’t deserve the ill will he had been getting from her. Her demeanor hadn’t changed drastically, but she had softened some.

“Okay. Guess I’ll have to give you a rain check on today’s dinner,” Tony said before turning to leave.

"You and Spider-Man will pay for setting loose a virus in our systems. Shouldn’t have happened,” reprimanded Hill. She was right, it shouldn’t have happened but it had been well concealed within the A.I.M. weapon’s apparently misleadingly simple microcomputer and Tony had felt daring even though he’d known something had been off about it. “And for ruining our night out too, I really wanted to go to that new jazz club,” she added seriously, or maybe joking. Tony still had a bit of trouble telling apart when she was kidding and when she wasn’t.

“Aaaaand I’m out,” Tony didn’t want to hear what their punishment would be just yet. It’d be something awful for sure. Something like volunteering themselves for Ryker’s next entertainment show or giving a speech at the Avengers Academy. Spider-Man had flipped the first time he’d seen that Mettle kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “HAVE YOU BEEN TO THE LAND OF HAPPY?” / Shel Silverstein’s The Land of Happy.


	6. IF STUPIDITY GOT US INTO THIS MESS, WHY CAN’T IT GET US OUT?

“ **Y** ou should just go and make up with him.”

Steve’s head snapped to where Beast was analyzing a sampling of a monster they had fought in a senator’s basement. It had left Valkyrie out of commission with a bite and War Machine had thought the creature’s bites to be poisonous but neither Black Widow, Sharon nor Moon Knight had been affected by the bites like the norse demi-goddess had. Turns out the senator had also been a Doombot and so they were trying to follow a trial to Doom with little to no success. The bot senator had been leaking money to a bogus organization he was pretty sure was somehow related to A.I.M. too, hence the Hill’s Avengers meeting he’d attended to earlier. It was unusual for Doom to associate with anyone, even more unusual for him to do it with M.O.D.O.K. but he had a hunch that something fishy was going on between those two.

“Excuse me, Hank?” asked Steve not knowing what to make out of his teammate’s previous comment.

“I said,” repeated Beast amicably, not taking his eye from the microscope’s eyepiece lens, “that you should just go and make up with him.”

“Huh…” Steve wasn’t sure what Hank was referring to but he hoped with all he had that it wasn’t to what he suspected he was.

“With Tony, I mean, in case you are deliberately wondering whom I meant by ‘him’,” Beast smiled amusedly. “You had a breakup, didn’t you?”

“It’s complicated,” replied Steve curtly. He didn’t need to think about this right now or ever if it could be helped. He knew he was being a coward but he was still hurt and just seeing Tony, even hearing his name, made his insides twist painfully. The whole misunderstanding had been humiliating beyond belief, its consequences terrible.

Time and time again Steve would think about how Tony had been angry by the fact that they had reconciled over sex, which hadn’t been exactly the truth, while he hadn’t seemed bothered at all by the fact of a relationship between them. Then again, it might’ve been Steve just grasping at straws in empty hopes of not feeling completely lost over what had happened.

“Sure is,” answered Hank clearly unconvinced. “But I’ve found out dinner and flowers work wonders.”

At this Steve’s eyes widened and his jaw almost dropped. “What? How?” he didn’t quite splutter.

“You’ve been blue, forgive the pun,” Beast snickered, “for a while. About the same time you stopped talking about Tony,” he scribbled something on a notebook next to the microscope and hummed. “From the day you guys beat Osborn on, it was ‘Tony this’, ‘Iron Man that’; always eager to finish work early to go back to the Tower, not yours and agent Carter’s apartment, mind you. I just assumed the obvious.” After some more fast scribbling, Hank changed samples and began to analyze a new one.

“I, well, I don’t think—“ Steve began, “he’s dating Hill now.” He’d noticed them getting along quite nicely these past days, he’d heard about their hanging outs from the other Avengers and the grapevine had it that Tony Stark and Maria Hill were dating. It had made Steve even more depressed about the whole issue with him.

“I doubt it,” rebuked Hank, “they are not very compatible, if you ask me. They wouldn’t work together and I’m pretty sure I’m not mistaken when I say that they both also know it. More than that, Tony, rumors and reputation aside, isn’t someone who’d jump into a romantic relationship so soon after a breakup. Not even out of spite. You should know, you’ve known him longer than most of us.” A small chuckle later, when a dumbfounded Steve wouldn’t reply, he added while studying the particular reaction of the sample when electrically charged, “So like I said, dinner and flowers.”

To his credit, Beast was right about Tony and relationships. Steve hadn’t known of the man having a steady relationship after the death of Rumiko Fujikawa. Since then, he had seemed to have only fleeting encounters, a few flings here or there, rather pouring all of his attention and spending most of his free time on New Avengers business, more often than not –sadly– almost dying for Steve. Or taking him to ball games, movies or…

Steve resisted the overwhelming urge to hit himself. He didn’t want to give Hank any more reasons to laugh at him. He had been so blind.

He snorted instead, as a ludicrous image came to his mind. “Tony’s not a dame-err- woman.”

“So?” replied Beast flippantly. It seemed the cells absorbed magick to induce in themselves some type of converging evolution of an, as of yet, unknown nature and for an equally uncertain end, if Steve was reading his teammate’s notes correctly. He had to admit that he was having a hard time making out the last two scribbled lines in the paper from his current distant position.

For a long while there was only the sound of the scrape of pencil on paper along a slow rhythmic humming.

“Inform me when anything new comes up,” said Steve and left with a purposeful and determined stride leaving a smiling Beast to finish the cell analysis. He was a man on a mission.

  


*

  


Another fun day at Wyche’s house/workshop/prison, working on the not-to-be-called-Resilient car.

All sarcasm, cynics and creative fights aside, though, Tony had his ultimate fun here, doing what he liked the most with people that understood it the most, at least, on the technical level. Time went by pretty fast between specs, engines building and tweaking, core computers’ programming and automobile pieces design and, later, creation and assembling.

“It’s not going to be red and gold nor red and silver for that matter. No red in this car at all.”

“Agreed.”

“Geez, I like red, alright? But not everything I build or own has to have red in it. It’s not like I’m obsessed with the color!” Why people thought he had a fixation with it? Tony didn’t like how everyone assumed he’d instantly choose that specific color for everything.

“Red tux to the investors gala,” piped Rhodey. Well, see if Tony invited him ever again to the car workshop. No more car previews for him.

“Red SI phones. Always. Red. Oh, and gold for especial editions,” Pepper made a mock-thoughtful pause and continued, “Custom golden Aston Martin.”

“Ruined thanks to the Hammer Girl,” groaned Tony. He had liked that car, a lot.

“The point is, no red or gold. Silver, I don’t mind so much,” Pimacher stated with an air of finality. Cababa and Macken all agreed while Wyche tried not to laugh.

“Whatever!” They hadn’t even let him have a word in when they had started to discuss colors, now that the car was in its final stage. They just had gone and assumed he’d suggest red or gold. If they had let him say anything at all he’d have suggested… well, okay, maybe Tony liked red a bit too much.

There was the distinct sound of someone clearing his or her throat and everyone turned around to look at Mrs. Arbogast who was poised at the doorframe.

“Mr. Stark, someone is here to see you,” she said looking cryptically pleased.

“I’m kind of busy being bashed by my work team and the people I thought were my friends over my tastes in color,” Tony looked dejectedly at everyone in the room to punctuate his words. “Oh, and finishing the building of a car along the way,” Rhodey and Pepper looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“I’m sure you could make some time for this person,” Mrs. Arbogast insisted arching a brow. Bambi was no Pepper but she wasn’t easy to deal with either.

“Okay, let them in,” Tony said with a defeated sigh and went back to the screens. They were giving a final debugging to the car’s systems and to take a break they had begun to talk about the paint for the car’s chassis. If his very trustworthy secretary had let someone in all this way to the assembly room, it must’ve been someone close and known to him. And it must’ve been an important issue too.

“Tony,” a very familiar voice called and Tony froze momentarily, then slowly, very slowly turned around to see Steve looking at him from the doorstep, Bambi already gone. His hands were behind his back.

There was a prolonged silence in the room. Wyche and the others pretended to go back to work. Pepper fiddled with her PDA and Rhodey just looked away.

Both Tony and Steve broke the quiet at the same time.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said some things—“

“I wasn’t in my right mind at the moment—“

They shut up and stared at each other some more, mutely accepting each other’s apology.

Shaking his head with a smile, Steve made to say something then stopped. He tried again but no words came out. He looked longingly at Tony, cleared his throat and gave it a third try. “Are you, err… can you come closer?” A light blush crept into Steve’s face.

“Why don’t you come closer?” Tony said cautiously. After all that had happened it was still hard for him to let his guard down and God, he was being an ass again, wasn’t he? They’d just apologized to each other; he really shouldn’t ruin the chance Steve was giving them both to make peace.

Steve, however, just walked to stand in front of Tony then looked around shyly before fixing his eyes back on him, setting his jaw as if steeling for something. Far behind Steve, Pepper’s eyes widened while Rhodey visibly struggled and failed to conceal his surprise at whatever he was seeing.

Then Tony was struggling too to hide his shock when big hands handed over to him a red roses bouquet. “This is kind of embarrassing,” said Steve lowly. Tony just nodded.

“Are you free tonight?” Tony nodded again. Funny how he’d been left speechless, it didn’t happen often.

“Would you have dinner with me?” Earnest eyes the color of the sky, Tony’s skin prickled when his fingers brushed against Steve’s when he accepted the bouquet.

“I—“ It was hard to articulate a coherent response, and he was really doing all he could to make his brain work but it seemed to have gone on vacation. Luckily, Mrs. Arbogast had come back to help Tony out by then.

“He’ll be free at seven,” she said.

“The car—“ That were three words already. Tony was getting there; soon he’ll be able to put together a whole sentence, hopefully.

“Mr. Stark will be free at seven, Mr. Rogers,” repeated Bambi.

Steve gave her a sheepish smile before directing his next words to Tony. “Alright then, pick you up here at eight?”

Tony nodded. Well, one step forward two steps back.

“Good,” Steve gave him a big relieved smile, and walked out. He called from the door, “See you at night,” and then was out, Mrs. Arbogast at his heels snickering.

The stillness in the room was very noticeable. Tony let out a breath he had been very aware he had been holding but hadn’t been able to do anything about it. It all had been so sudden and fast. He breathed deeply and sagged his shoulders as he lazily waved a hand to everyone.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Pimacher and Cababa wolf-whistled, Wyche just wiggled his eyebrows with a vocalized ‘you have always liked them blond and tall’ and a smirk while Macken complimented him mockingly about his ‘good catch’. Pepper and Rodhey though, said nothing, looking worriedly at each other.

Once the jokes, whistling and hooting broke for the geniuses to go grab lunch and Tony and his closest friends were left alone, Pepper approached him with uneasiness plain on her pretty face.

“I think it’s a bad idea,” she said softly.

“Me too,” replied Tony eyeing thoughtfully the roses on his desk. . They were really beautiful, carefully chosen, not a fault on any single one of them. He remembered briefly the only one other time he had received a bouquet of roses. Rumiko had been full of surprises that day.

“Then why?” Pepper asked confused, her eyes digging into him for a response.

Why, indeed. Tony was still shaken, not quite sure of what had just happened. All he knew was that he somehow had a date with Steve. It hadn’t appeared like mind control, the Skrull detector integrated in his armor hadn’t beeped, all readings had turned out normal. So something had changed, drastically, and Steve had taken a chance that he, himself, had been hesitating to take for so many years.

Tony was silent for a few seconds, avoiding Pepper’s eyes, before puzzling together his thoughts and coming up with an answer for his risky take on what had ‘disaster’ written all over. “For a long time my excuse was that of not wanting to ruin an excellent friendship,” he began, “But you see, deleted brain or not, the fact that Steve and I haven’t been friends for a long time remains. I might not remember neither how we distanced ourselves nor ended up hating each other –because Pep, it looked like we did from what I collected from the papers and the Internet– and yet, it happened and he does remember.”

Rhodey seemed to ponder something as he listened to Tony, having voiced Pepper what most probably were his own concerns too.

“After Asgard, our reconciliation was based on a misunderstanding and we still weren’t friends. We still aren’t friends. So this might be our only chance, right now, before we fall back into old habits, old friendships and old excuses,” he finished finally turning his gaze to Pepper, whose hard features had softened some and looked at him with a strange mix of apprehension and understanding.

“Good luck, Tony,” she said almost sadly with a small smile. “I’ll bring you a good change of clothes,” and left.

Rhodey watched Pepper go then turned to Tony.

“Well, Chief,” Tony chuckled at Rhodey still calling him that after all the changes their relationship had gone through all these years, “I’ll just say… that your car is coming up pretty ass kicking.” He patted Tony’s shoulder and sat next to him to look at the CGI rendering of the not-Resilient car and then at the driving simulation on the other screens.

The both of them started to play with the driving simulator, Tony explaining the car’s features and Rhodey attempting outrageous acrobatics with its virtual counterpart. They laughed every time Rhodey got his computerized self running away from a flaming, exploding car.

  


**

  


In hindsight, he should’ve done this _before_ asking Tony out. He’d just rushed ahead without really thinking thoroughly what he was going to do when, roses in hand, he was already asking Mrs. Arbogast to let him see her employer.

Good Heavens. He had a date with Tony. Tonight.

Steve knocked twice the door before Maria Hill’s reply came through with an irritated “Come in.”

He went into the sparse office and stood before Hill’s desk. She was reading and signing some papers. Steve could understand her apparent sourness; he hated paperwork too.

“Yes?” Maria raised her head and looked at him with a highly annoyed expression. Steve wasn’t afraid of her, no, he was her boss, he had gone to World War II and had punched Hitler in the face. He was—had been, Captain America.

“Commander Rogers?” Hill’s stare bore into him as she questioned.

Steve swallowed nervously and went for it. No need to beat around the bushes. “Are you and Tony dating?” He should’ve asked earlier before pretty much imposing himself on Tony, again. No matter what Hank had said and whatever Steve thought to know about his once long time best friend nor any conclusions he might have presumptuously come to earlier either, he should’ve informed himself well about the man’s situation with Maria. What if he was intruding into something? What if he made them lose whatever they had just barely started?

Hill spared him a contemptuous look before going back to her papers with a slight huff. “Fortunately, no.” Steve hoped he had been able to hide his sudden relief. He didn’t succeed, though, if her narrowing eyes briefly looking up at him once more before going back down quickly again were anything to go by.

“Why? Wanna ask him out or something?” she asked with a mocking smirk, reading what seemed to be a memo before making annotations on the margins of the document.

And Steve didn’t want to lie but he didn’t think it wise to divulge his state of affairs with Tony without the man’s consent. Moreover, they were just about to test the waters so no need to give people any ideas or rumor fuel either. He hesitated.

Without looking up, Maria signed up something and a mean smile drew on her face. “About damn time,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?” Steve was dumfounded by her comment and even more bewildered by her attitude. She appeared nonchalant but you could tell she was anything but relaxed.

Maria Hill finally directed her attention to him, chin raised defiantly. “I said: About damn time.”

Steve would never guess what went through that woman’s head; however, she always seemed to know what was going on, even when she shouldn’t.

“Was that all, Director Rogers?” Her voice was stern as she spoke.

It was unusual for someone so small to be so intimidating. If it weren’t for the Super Soldier Serum, Steve would’ve been afraid he’d be stuttering his response. “I guess. Yes.”

“Good. I’ll send you the reports about our latest A.I.M. base raid later today” she said and went back to her work. Maria was uncannily efficient, he could appreciate that, it was the reason he had chosen her to lead the Avengers. The fact that despite seemingly hating Tony at first she had aided him and remained loyal to the man thorough his brain deletion ordeal, of which he’d heard from Virginia, had also been another determinant factor. That, however, didn’t change how much she still unnerved him.

  


***

  


Rhodey was helping Tony fix his tie while Pepper and Mrs. Arbogast arranged and re-arranged his schedule. Hammer had made it so they wouldn’t be able to show off the car at the 21-Green International Expo and so they were arranging for it to be done by themselves at Wyche’s installations in a couple of days. As the clock hit eight o’ clock, the alarm beeped announcing a visitor. Mrs. Arbogast went to welcome in the handsome figure that stood at the building’s entrance, visible through the surveillance monitors.

“Impeccably punctual,” noted Pepper, “Unlike some people I’m pretty familiar with.”

“That’s Steve for you, Pep,” replied Tony feeling kind of giddy, which was actually pretty embarrassing. It felt like going to the prom with that handsome football team’s captain you had been pining after since your freshman year. Not that he had done such a thing back at MIT. Actually, his prom hadn’t been that special save for having gone with Ty, though each one with a girl of his own. They had stolen each other’s dates quite quickly, forgotten about them halfway through the ball to go drink somewhere alone and ever since then Ty would joke saying his prom date had been Tony instead of Margie.

Tony Stark did not blush, so he decidedly wasn’t blushing when Bambi led Steve in and the man eyed him appreciatively, politely complimenting his good looks. Pepper had brought him a pair of black slacks, his favorite red button shirt and clean black dress shoes since he only had had grease stained boots at Wyche’s.

Steve waved at Rhodey and Pepper, “Good evening,” he greeted.

“Evening, Steve.”

“Hey, Boss.”

Tony walked to his date. “You aren’t looking so bad yourself,” he said as he smoothed non-existent wrinkles off of Steve’s light blue shirt. There was a sheepish smile and a blush when blue eyes locked onto him and yes, Tony still had the old Stark charm going. He had been sincere, though, Steve looked gorgeous with his tightly pressed shirt and deep blue slacks, jacket in hand.

“So, you ready?” asked Steve, to which Tony nodded and lead both of them to the door. “Thanks guys. I’m off!” he announced over his shoulder to the others, Steve waving a goodbye next to him.

“Take good care of Tone, Boss,” said Rhodey.

“Will do.”

“Tell us if he’s a handful,” piped in Pepper.

Tony huffed at his friends’ antics and hurried past a smirking Mrs. Arbogast, his date in tow. “He’s always a handful, though. Isn’t he?” added in the older woman fondly at them.

Just as they made it past the doorstep and Tony thought they had gotten it easy, he heard his friends snicker. Here it comes.

“Behave yourself Tone!” shouted Rhodey playfully.

“Don’t break your curfew,” mock-threatened Pepper.

“Yes dad! Yes mom!” replied Tony in a singsong voice and closed the door behind him in a quick motion. He still could hear them chuckling on the other side.

“So, what time should I drop you in back here?” asked Steve awkwardly when they reached the car. It was a camouflaged S.H.I.E.L.D. car. Tony loved these; he had read his own notes on his work on the camouflage systems and their other features’ overall upgrades. He wished he remembered how he’d come up with the whole design. He’d have time to reverse-engine –and how disgraceful was that?– his own creations later, though, if Steve let him put his hands on one of the cars. For now his attention was on the man himself, who seemed somewhat deflated. What was up with him? Had Tony said or done something wrong?

“I dunno. Whatever time you want?” he ventured to answer as nonchalantly as he could, unsure of what to make out of the question and Steve’s poorly hidden dispirited expression. The truth is he hadn’t been expecting to come back at all for the night.

“I don’t want to make you break your curfew,” explained Steve seriously, “Don’t want to cause you trouble,” he finished, rubbing the back of his neck.

Many expressions crossed Tony’s face until he settled with bafflement. Bafflement was good. “You know they were kidding, right? About the curfew.”

Steve’s face went red as he hurried to unlock and open the copilot’s door for Tony, who was now looking at him with a bemused wide grin. Steve could be so gullible sometimes.

“I just thought, well, since you are working on your car and I heard you’ll have to launch it all by yourselves outside of that expo in Seattle… I mean, you have already a tight schedule so I assumed—“ Steve started to explain embarrassedly but Tony just touched on his shoulder and smiled him a fond, sincere smile, “Always keeping tabs on me,” he said. It was heart-warming the way Steve always thought about him, even when they weren’t talking to each other, even when they were fighting, he somehow stayed informed about Tony’s life developments, as much as he could. Which was quite a feat, considering everything that went on in a single day for Tony and then his obsessive secrecy to top it off.

“I worry,” replied Steve as Tony climbed into the car.

“I know. That’s what I love about you,” the offhanded comment made Steve pause for a noticeable second. His mouth opened, about to say something but then closed. He headed instead to the other side of the car with a tiny, poorly veiled smile. The door clicked open then shut and off they were. Only after putting on their seatbelts, of course. You don’t argue about car safety with the original Captain America, now Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

  


**

  


Tony couldn’t very well remember how the date had really gone, not with Steve’s mouth ravishing his, body pressed tightly against his room’s door at the Tower by the other man’s larger stronger body.

They had talked about Stark Resilient’s upcoming car, the Hammer girls and that douche piloting the Detroit Steel, about Steve’s misadventures with foreign politics –ha, he surely hadn’t missed those from his time at the directorate, nor pretty much anything else either to tell the truth– and Avenger’s old times, since Tony couldn’t remember the newest ones before Osborn’s downfall. They had avoided certain topics without much effort, each one knowing what the other didn’t want or needed to talk about.

The place Steve had taken Tony to had been pretty neat too. Not quite expensive but very tasteful. His ‘favorite restaurant since being defrosted’ he had said.

But as hot as the kiss was, they eventually had to come up for air. Steve looked intently at him, lust-darkened eyes piercing his. Tony had never seen him so incensed; it was breathtaking and sexy as hell.

“Tell me,” breathed Steve over Tony’s lips, “Tell me that you put out on the first date,” he asked, probably meant as a light-hearted joke if his low husky-chuckle was any indication but the distinctive need laced in his voice made it sound more like a hopeful request than anything else.

With his best indignation-stricken face and voice, Tony replied, “Who do you take me for?” moving away from Steve’s face to give him a wounded look.

Steve seemed taken aback, slightly disappointed. He blushed. “I-“ he started to answer when Tony let out a laugh. Grinning, he cut in hastily, “I’m Tony Stark; of course I do!”

A stunned stare that turned to a glare preceded a fierce kiss that made Tony’s blood rush south and his vision blur.

The searing kiss eventually faded to a sweet slow paced exploring of each other’s mouths to be later reluctantly ended and Steve frowned at him. “That wasn’t funny,” he said, planting a quick kiss on Tony’s jaw and went on, “And you aren’t half as promiscuous as you make yourself seem.”

Tony knew he was smiling goofily and had tried to fight the gesture at first but the warmth in his chest was too much and he couldn’t help feeling ridiculously happy because Steve, who still knew him better that he knew himself most of the times, was here, forgiving and apparently –because Tony still couldn’t bring himself to believe it– interested in him. Oh, and his muscled thigh was doing funny things between his legs.

Steve grabbed Tony’s ass and urged him up to which he readily complied jumping with Steve’s support and encircling his waist with strong legs.

The door clicked open and Steve carried Tony all the way to the bed where he dropped him with a predatory smile that made Tony’s skin tingle.

Once he’d gone and shut the door off, Steve climbed onto the bed and set to patiently undress the squirming man beneath him. “You are a tease,” huffed Tony when he tried to help speed up the process only to have his hands slapped away with a low growl.

“I like taking my time,” replied Steve, having finished unbuttoning a very expensive dress shirt. He nuzzled Tony’s neck and reveled in his scent, some fine wood and earth cologne mixed with a faint metallic smell and the man’s very own tang. “This time it’s really you,” he muttered almost inaudibly against his collarbone, going lower and kissing the center of Tony’s chest, over his arc reactor.

“I feel nothing there,” said Tony, a bit discomfited. He tangled his hand in Steve blond and perfect hair to direct him to his right nipple. “Try here.”

Steve gave him a look, and slowly, gave a few licks to the nub before sucking it in, his left hand traced with a finger the ridges of the blue chest repulsor, just where skin met metal and Tony keened and moaned at the combined sensations.

It was wonderful; the way Steve touched him so earnestly. He worried at Tony’s other nipple, trailed down Tony’s body with kisses later, stopping just above his waistband. The hand that wasn’t supporting Steve above him had been busy undoing Tony’s pants’ button and fly so it was just a matter of raising his hips up to take them off completely.

“No underwear?” asked Steve amusedly as he stared at Tony’s erection. He licked the reddened head and Tony’s hands were instantly on his shoulders, stroking and kneading.

“Oh, God, Steve,” panted Tony, “After my new upgrade, ahh—do that again—after my upgrade clothes are pretty much only an affectation.” Tony squirmed when Steve nipped at his inner thigh and cradled a hand in blond soft hair, steering him toward more exciting places that demanded his immediate attention.

“How come?” A puff of tantalizing breath grazed the base of Tony’s dick making him shiver with anticipation.

“I-I don’t, mmhhmmm, wanna get too technical because I’m desperate for sex here, you see.” It was unfair the way Steve expected him to answer with him kneading his thighs and tonguing around his length but he went on, “I make up my clothes the same – yes, there, yes – way I take my armor out. Basically, ahh— I don’t wear actual clothes ever at all, people just think I do. So –huhh– so, in a way, I’m naked all the time while everyone else thinks I’m wearing clothes, but I’m not. It’s only the –ohhhh– nano machines.”

Steve stopped doing the magnificent things he was doing with his mouth to his penis and Tony whined. “Oh, come on.”

“I don’t think I get it but I don’t like the idea of you walking around naked in public.” The voice was stern though it didn’t have much of an effect when accompanied with such a confused face.

This pause gave Tony enough time to clear his mind from the arousal and notice that something was very wrong in the room, “How come I’m naked and you’re not?” he asked, hands going to Steve’s shoulders and tugging at the offending garment. Steve obediently started to undress and Tony ‘s mouth watered at the view. The chiseled muscles, the pink nipples in a broad solid chest, the taut belly he had longed for years to feel under his hands, to touch just for the sake of touching.

“I want you to wear real clothes from today on, though,” admonished Steve as he tossed away his sky blue shirt. His hands worked quickly on his belt and then the buttons of his slacks. Soon enough he was shucking them off too along with his underwear.

“Alright, whatever you want, just hurry,” agreed Tony raising his hips hopefully.

Steve smiled and pinned him to the mattress. Tony didn’t hesitate to rub, pinch, squeeze and scratch every muscle, every inch of skin his hands roamed over. He then kissed Steve’s jaw and trailed up to his ear, which he nibbled.

“The clothes I just took off of you…”

“They are real, God, Pepper brought me actual clothes. Said it was crass not to wear them on a date with you.” Tony didn’t say though, that she’d also said it was to prevent him from following his original plan of making his nano-machine suit a crotchless one after the dinner was over. _“I doubt Steve would be as flattered as you are wistfully hoping he’d be. I surely wouldn’t be,”_ she had said. He couldn’t linger on these thoughts any longer though, as Steve kissed his way down Tony’s body to engulf him later in his mouth and hummed all rationality left in him away. Tony threaded his fingers in short silky hair when Steve started to bob his head. It was amazing. That was the only word that came to his mostly shut down brain. Here he had the pinnacle of human perfection, a legend, the first Captain America, childhood hero, teenage crush, adulthood love, chief of the most powerful secret organization, sucking him off. _Glorious._

Tony tried to buck repeatedly but big hands on each one of his hips held him easily down. A few bobs, a lick from root to tip following the prominent vein and Tony was struggling to keep himself together when the hot wet mouth went away. He cursed at the loss.

“Now, watch that mouth Tony,” chided Steve playfully as he rose to plant a kiss on Tony’s not-entirely-mock-up pout. Then he opened the nightstand’s drawers to rummage through.

“You know there’s a way…” Tony trailed off as he saw Steve grow more desperate with each second he looked around the drawer’s contents. Brows furrowed, face flushed.

“Just so we speed things along, may I help you somehow? What are you looking for?” ventured Tony who really just wanted to feel Steve on him again.

“Lube,” replied Steve, then, visibly upset, he asked, “You should have some around.” Lovely, honestly, the way people assumed that just because he was Tony Stark he had every room he ever was in stacked with sex supplies. He slid his hand under the big soft pillows and reached down into the crack between the mattress and the headboard to retrieve a small tube and a square foiled packet.

“Here,” he said handing over the strawberry lubricant and condom to a perplexed Steve.

“Ever since that time someone whose name I’m not saying raided my room, I’ve learned to be more discreet,” Tony didn’t quite blush at the memory of that day. The new reassembled Avengers had just moved in and, well, it had been plain embarrassing.

“Strawberry, huh?” Asked Steve arranging himself between Tony’s legs. He took Tony in hand and gave a few strokes receiving a long moan in response.

“I like strawberries,” Tony rasped, he thrust upwards hoping to get some more sweet friction; sadly, Steve let him have none of it. He heard the telltale pop of the tube being opened, the squirt of its contents being extracted and that’s when he finally took in Steve’s position. Strong hands spread his legs and a lubed finger slid past his balls. Tony’s heartbeat sped up, his whole body tensed “Wait, wait!” And to his credit, he managed not to entirely shout.

Steve froze and looked with wide eyes at Tony. His ears, face, neck were tinted pink and he was stone still though the effort to remain so was acutely visible. “Tony?” his tongue darted out to nervously lick his lips.

Tony wanted to give Steve a chance but he also knew what was coming and past experiences hadn’t been pleasant, to say the least. And Steve was big. Not the biggest he’d seen, but big nevertheless. He really wanted to have sex though and he truly hoped that Steve wouldn’t leave because that’d be one of the worst cases of blue balls he’d had had in a long time. “I don’t,” Tony said hesitantly, “I don’t bottom.”

Steve was stunned; it took him a second to consider the words. “You don’t… bottom,” he repeated slowly, as if to himself.

“No.”

Steve massaged tan lean thighs and that felt good, very good. Blue clear eyes locked into Tony’s, hot, intense. “Have you tried—”

“More than once,” Tony stopped Steve’s hands gently placing his own above them. “Didn’t like it, sorry.”

“Back in Hel…” Steve’s heated gaze turned confused, lost.

“It wasn’t me, remember?” Tony didn’t know what had really transpired there back then but he’d have to get the whole story sometime. He was getting a vague idea of it, though.

“Oh, of course. I-“ Steve blushed, his tone sincerely apologetic. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“It’s okay,” sighed Tony.

They stared at each other in silence; Tony felt the burn of blood on his cheeks and swallowed. He couldn’t hide his anxiousness when he next spoke. “So, hum, what now?” There were a lot of options and Tony had already a couple of suggestions ready because, if anything, he was pretty versatile when it came to sex so, really, there was no need to suspend tonight’s activities. Right?

“Change of plans then,” replied Steve.

Tony opened his mouth to offer ideas and was kissed instead. Steve chased Tony’s tongue, lured it into his own mouth and suckled. Heat pooled in Tony’s stomach as Steve’s body pressed onto him and moved once, twice, their cocks sliding together. He didn’t remember when he’d closed his eyes but when he opened them the sight almost made him come right there and then: Steve was supporting himself with an arm, opening himself with his free hand. A strawberry lube tube discarded to the side.

Steve gave another quick kiss to Tony’s lips, a few to his jaw and Tony’s breath hitched at the words Steve breathed next to his ear. “I’ll bottom.”

They kissed while Steve worked himself loose, Tony touching greedily every expanse of perfect super soldier skin he could put his hands on. When he grabbed Steve’s firm ass and squeezed, Steve let out a long moan, “I’m ready,” he panted and rolled them so Tony was on top, powerful thighs up and around his waist bringing him downwards. “C’mon Tony, c’mon,” he asked, voice rough, pupils dilated, chest heaving.

Tony penetrated him slowly, relishing in the slickness and heat engulfing him, in Steve’s groans, his not-quite whimpers, his powerful arms and legs urging him down.

“Feels good,” moaned Steve when Tony was finally buried in him to the hilt.

“You are gorgeous, just look at you,” replied Tony. At Steve’s rolling of hips asking him to move, he began to thrust in and out.

“Give it to me, Tony.”

It was hard to think with that delicious welcoming warmth enveloping him; the little sounds that escaped Steve’s mouth sending thrills down his spine. He seemed to be enjoying himself a lot, his eyes, when open, were black and dazed and he was chewing his lower lip. “Huh-huh,” Tony rasped, one hand on Steve’s hip in a strong grip. “I –uhh– see what you are tuh-trying to do.” At Steve’s low voiced demand for harder and faster, Tony drove in with renewed speed.

“God, yes. Like that. More.” Tony ignored the faint praise; he was vaguely aware that he had a point he needed to get across even though he wasn’t sure if Steve was still listening to him or not anymore. He scrambled his mind for what he had been about to say before Steve’s pleas and burning heat had robbed him of coherent thoughts a few seconds ago. As previously stated, it was hard to think, but Tony managed to remember.

“No matter how good you make it look… or sound,” he was panting very hard, he was close, very close, “I still won’t bottom.”

Steve opened his eyes wide, “What?” he threw his arms up to grab Tony, pull him down and kiss him hard. “Of all the things— I’d never—“ he seemed to give up on whatever he was about to say in favor of kissing Tony once more and pushing him down with his feet planted on his back.

Tony pounded in, now hitting Steve’s prostate every time, his hand stroking the hardened dick between their bodies, smearing the pre-come over the head. It wasn’t long before hot white liquid spilled in his hand and over well-defined steel abs. Steve’s mouth hung open in pleasure, his slightly unfocused gaze locked with Tony’s, his hands gripping him down and close, impossibly close. He shuddered almost imperceptibly, clenching hard.

“Oh yess, that’s it,” growling that bright piece of commentary, Tony came inside the velvety heat of Steve’s ass.

He lay there, bonelessly, sprawled all over Steve a few seconds before sliding out of him, getting a small grunt and a gasp in return, to peel off the condom which he promptly threw away.

Tony rested his head on a hand, looked down to Steve who had his eyes closed, breath still ragged but not as much as his. “Are you alright?” he asked.

A bleary blue eye looked up to him. “More than.” A contented smile accompanied his reply. “You?”

“Superb.”

Steve dragged Tony under the sheets along with him and planted light kisses along his jaw, on his lips.

“So,” asked Tony arching his eyebrows invitingly, “How about some morning sex later?”

Steve closed his eyes and hummed contentedly. “I’d like that.” Their breathing evening out, two warm bodies pressed against each other.

Heaven.

“It’s a deal then,” replied Tony, half asleep already. Funny, he could stay awake for days even when working on any of his projects or the armor but good sex always made him sleepy.

“I’ll be waking up at five in the morning, though.”

Tony groaned and resettled himself under the sheets. “Oh God. Screw you, Steve.”

Steve chuckled; a big arm came to rest on Tony’s waist. “Does that mean the deal’s still up?”

Letting out a scoff, Tony gave his final answer, eyes closed, “I won’t wake up at five in the goddamn morning to fuck.” The body next him tensed slightly; there were faint shuffling sounds and the arm on him tightened its hold.

He barely heard a mumbled “Don’t say it like that,” before falling asleep. It had been a crazy week and, he wouldn’t tell Steve, and Pepper knew just because she was Pepper and always knew, but he hadn’t slept more than three hours since his fight with the Hammer girl four days ago.

  


*

  


It was warm, the smell of coffee a distant but identifiable echo and he was betting that outside his very comfortable silk sheets cocoon, there would be hell by means of piercing morning light. So no, he wasn’t going to come out and whoever was... hammering, hammering would be the best word to describe that ungodly sound, on his door could just go and—

“Stark, if you don’t answer right now, I’ll kick the door open and drag your sorry ass out myself,” informed him the ever-melodious voice of a certain Maria Hill.

“Leave him alone, he needs the rest,” hushed another voice. He liked this voice. “We are having an important event today, I rather have him at his best.”

Tony peeled off the sheets slowly. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, let out a contented yawn and opened his left eye to look around at his, save for him, empty bed. He had had the most beautiful dream.

“There’s an Avengers’ crisis,” stated Hill’s voice sternly.

He was naked but that was normal. He used to sleep in the nude even before his new armor gave him a good excuse for it.

“So send Luke’s Avengers,” retorted the other nice womanly voice. He’d like to marry that voice some day.

“They are already engaged.”

“I’m sure Steve’s got some other Avengers somewhere out there. Besides, it’s not as if Captain America and the others can’t take care of themselves.”

Steve. Yes. Steve had been in the dream. And there had been amazing sex involved too. Best dream ever.

The faint aroma of coffee teased Tony’s nose full of delicious promises somewhere not too far.

“Surely you’ve heard of A.I.M.’s latest endeavors and the ever growing worrying prospect of Doom’s involvement in all of this.” The sound waves were coming from a different angle. The source had most probably changed position and height. Good ol’ Maria, surely trying to impose over the other lovely voice. Not that its owner could ever be intimidated. He knew. He’d tried once long long time ago and it had been catastrophic, he’d learned an unsavory lesson that day.

“Don’t you try to look down at me now, Hill,” a click-clack and then some shuffling. “Come on, you know how’s it been for him these days. Rescue and I will cover up for him,” pleaded now the familiar good voice.

Tony decided it was time to go on a quest for that divine hot smell which source he had pinpointed to the Tower’s kitchen.

He was in the Tower. Interesting.

Tony opened both eyes, stretched his arms, moved his neck around, arched his back until he heard it pop and climbed down the bed. He spotted a small note on the nightstand under the lamp. The message had been scrawled in haste, you could tell by the hard lines, but the words were still very clear. It was a neat writing.

 _Went off on Secret Mission. See you when I come back.  
You owe me *scratched text*.  
—S_

Tony could make out an ‘m’, an ‘n’ something that looked like an ‘o’, probably a ‘g’ and what resembled pretty much the word ‘sex’ out of the heavily scratched text.

“He wouldn’t like it if I left him out of a mission without even informing him beforehand,” Hill’s voice didn’t soften any but certainly lost some severity.

“Since when do you care?” but it was said with a laugh. Two different chuckles followed the comment.

“I’ll give him five more minutes, Potts. Then I’ll take harsh measures.”

There had been Steve, there had been a date, there had been amazing sex and there had been a talk about morning sex too. And it hadn’t been a dream.

Tony recovered quickly, covered himself with the quilt then hurried to the door. He opened it just in time to catch Maria walking toward the stairs. Pepper stood there looking at him with this knowing smile of which Tony would worry about later.

“Maria!” he shouted, “Did it happen? An attempt to take over the Government’s systems? Another Pod Politician?”

Tony heard a close indignant yelp. “You didn’t wear underwear! Tony, I told you!”

“Hey Pep. How’d you know?” If MODOK succeeded in this, it’d be big, big and disastrous.

“Yes, you were wrong only about one thing, though.”

“There isn’t any around within the discarded clothes across in your room. That’s how I’d know.”

“It wasn’t an attempt much as a success. The State’s compromised.”

“Damn.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

“I need coffee.”

Tony was already striding down the stairs. Pepper and Maria looking at each other with raised eyebrows, a forsaken red quilt in front of them.

“Welp! Naked! I saw nothing, I know nothing!”

“Lookin’ good, Stark.”

“Oh my God! Don’t do that without warning me before! No matter how many times I see it, it still spooks me. The way it just pours out of you, it’s creepy.”

“You rather see him naked!!!?”

“Well, yes. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Thou may open thine eyes now, friend Spider.”

“And you say you based this on future technology based on past technology of yours? I would very much like to know more, if you don’t mind.”

“Finish your coffee, Stark. We are leaving as soon as Hill makes the call.”

Helplessly slurping his scalding hot double espresso heaven, already completely suited save for the helmet, Tony reflected on how the Bleeding-edge Armor was by long the best idea he had come up with ever. Soon enough, Maria was leading them all to the Quinjet with a wicked smile on her face.


	7. I'D RATHER FIGHT WITH YOU THAN MAKE LOVE WITH ANYONE ELSE

“ **S** o I take it the flowers and dinner worked?” mused Beast through the intercom. Steve, Natasha and Marc were all positioned in strategic points in Latverian soil, just outside a grim castle, surveying. They had successfully infiltrated the small country, Ant-Man had gone into the castle but his updates on the covert intrusion grew less and less regular. It could’ve been attributed to the fact they had been constantly changing their radio frequencies so they wouldn’t get discovered and/or tracked easily. It didn’t make Steve feel any less wary, though.

“Now’s not the time,” shot back Steve with his best commanding tone. There was a chuckle at the other end.

“What? So you and sexylicious Carter gettin’ back? I was just about to ask her out myself! Make up yer mind already Rogers! The girl needs some real lovin’ if you know what I mean,” chirruped Eric’s voice through the new channel.

There were times when Steve’s patience was tested and he mostly always succeeded. Then there were the times he had to listen to their new Ant-Man’s rambling.

“You are an idiot! Get it in your hard skull, moron: No names. At all. Ever,” hissed Black Widow murderously into the communicator.

Steve sighed. They had to do this. They could do this. “Did you find anything yet?”

“No. Haven’t found the harem either. D’you think he’s even got one?”

Natasha groaned her discomfort and everyone could just about hear her rolling her eyes.

The line was interrupted by static and then they could hear a faint ‘Oh shit, oh shit…’ along the new, clear and ominous voice.

“And you shall keep on finding nothing. I know who you are, and to think you’d be as foolish as to try to sneak into Doom's territory!”

Oh shit, indeed.

“Come forth and face Doom’s punishment!”

There was a small snicker and then, the same faint cursing voice of moments ago. “For a second there, I thought he’d say something puny like ‘Face your Doom’ or something like that.”

Then they all heard a cackle and the line went dead.

  


*

  


“Communications are back up. How’s everyone?” this time it was War Machine talking. His mechanized words had somewhat of an echo. “I’ve got all of your signals placed within a secure network via my armor and through old Stark satellites.”

“Nice to hear you, War Machine. The extraction was successful. Ant-Man isn’t doing very well though. Can you guys come and pick up us? Let me give you our coordinates.”

As Steve arranged for the battered team to be taken home, Eric stopped his pitiful sobbing and whimpering to ask aloud anyone who’d listen.

“So are they goin’ back or not? –cough— Cuz I already bought new socks. For the date, I mean. She can’t refuse me now; I’m on my deathbed!” He was about to add something else but instead garbled and then garbled some more. “Oh God! I think I just puked out my kidney! Medic!”

“Shut up O’Grady, and stay still,” snarled Moon Knight.

  


**

  


“You should’ve called us!”

Great. Those two had barely made up, much to everyone’s relief and they were already fighting again. Peter turned on the TV and pretended not to hear them go at each other. He’d learned to mind his own business whenever Steve and Tony fought. Unless he was Thor, they wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

“Detroit Steel is MY problem! And we did just fine!” Tony wasn’t shouting but he was definitely angry. No more than Steve though, his face, when Peter shot a quick glance at him, was red as a tomato. Only Tony could get him that specific hue of red.

“And you Rhodey, I expected better of you—“ War Machine stood beside Tony, as he typically did whenever he was around and Tony was being reprimanded.

“Hey, I suggested we called you, he said ‘no’,” shrugged the man. He was almost as big as Steve, and he was the only one keeping his cool in the room. Everyone else, pretty much like Peter himself, were pretending to be busy doing anything but acknowledging the scene playing in the middle of the Tower’s living room. Some were more amused than nervous though, but overall, everyone was just hoping the discussion wouldn’t escalate any further. That’s why they had stayed instead of going somewhere else, they could intervene if need be.

“When Tone says no, I follow. I’m sorry Steve, you may be my Boss, but at the end of the day, I’m always Tone’s man,” replied War Machine putting a protective arm around Tony’s shoulders, which visibly relaxed the man. Something in Steve’s eyes flared at this. His eyes pierced holes at the both of them when Tony leaned his head on Rhodey’s shoulders looking at him with warm fond eyes.

“Whatever would I ever do without you?” Tony laughed.

“Dunno. Crawl somewhere and die, probably.”

There were laughs in the room. Only two laughs, though. Everybody else was silent. Who was the pair of madmen daring to laugh when Steve seemed just about to pop up a vein? Hint: both of them wore armor. Not now, though. But usually.

“Want to talk to you in private later. Iron. Man.” said Steve. “My room,” he added, a fierce look on him, then stomped out of the room. The Avengers eyed each other; BuckyCap was the first one to move. He followed Steve.

Oh boy. Was this ever going to be fun!

“Shouldn’t’ve asked Stark back in the team if it was going to be like this,” commented Luke to no one in particular, arms crossed. Jessica with little Danielle in arms just raised an eyebrow and glanced at the living room’s entrance. “We’ll just have to brace for impact then, huh.” They both had come with Peter and Wolverine to the Tower to look at a new training equipment Tony and Noh-Varr had made specifically for their team at Steve’s request. Hand had wanted them to test it in the Tower’s training room before bringing it back to the Mansion. She was circumspect like that. Said they didn’t have budget for more rebuilding if the equipment malfunctioned. Tony had made a face at that.

“Anthony is a fine man as is Steven. He is a most important asset in our lines. Our comrades shall sort out their differences as they often do, in time.” It was weird to see Thor being so readily supportive of Tony, after what had happened between them. He was even more patient than Steve himself toward him sometimes. But then again, ‘To err is human, to forgive is divine’ and Thor was a God.

  


***

  


Steve knew he was overreacting. Although, Tony did almost get Pepper, Rhodey and himself killed. Why couldn’t he just trust Steve? They were together now, weren’t they? They could share burdens; Tony didn’t have to face everything alone, not way back before the war, not even during it because if needed, Steve would’ve come and help –maybe, he liked to think so– and more than ever, not now.

And the way War Machine disregarded him just so, no, Steve had to be honest, the way War Machine just went ahead and said “I’m his man” so easily plus Tony just looking at him with such fondness. It was a fact that Tony always went first to Rhodes than to Steve when he was in trouble.

“Wait, Steve.” It was Bucky. Steve still felt a little odd around him when he was in full Captain America regalia. More than the colors, he missed his shield. It was impossible not to miss it, they’d been together for so long, gone through so much; but it was Bucky’s now. And he was taking good care of it.

“You and Stark, this thing between you two,” he said, taking back Steve from his thoughts. “Are you sure about it? Are you serious?” It was hard for him to show emotions, but he could see the concern in his eyes. “Because right now, what I saw back there, says otherwise.”

What, what was he talking about? He couldn’t be referring to his and Tony relationship, could he? No one knew. No one was supposed to know.

Bucky put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, his face grim. “I don’t want to interfere in your decisions but I’ll be honest here and speak my mind. It won’t work.” It probably didn’t show, to other people it’d be hard to spot, but his posture was an anxious one.

In retrospect, it was understandable. Steve hadn’t been exactly inconspicuous about it, neither had Tony but they hadn’t been open about it either. Not at all. It was still too delicate, too new, what they both had. He hadn’t wanted to risk it.

And now, had Bucky figured them out?

“Listen, Bucky. Whatever you think is going on…” he started but the new young Captain America cut in resolutely.

“What’s going on is that you and Stark aren’t getting along well, and then you two have this thing, with Doom. He called you both out at that UN conference, asked you to ‘visit’ or he’d denounce a supposed invasion attempt on Latveria by American Forces –What’s all that about anyway?– and we all know it’s a trap.”

Steve let out a breath. He was about to reply but Bucky held out a hand.

“Please, just listen to me. I’m telling you, it won’t work. You’ll blow it up. Don’t go to Doom’s. Don’t fall for his taunt.”

It had been all about Doom demanding Tony and him to meet him in Latverian grounds. To have a meeting and ‘debate’ about something he didn’t reveal.

“I have to. We have to. We’ll be fine. Little fights like these have never diminished any our battle performance. That’s why we’ve always been a good team,” Steve pointed out quite proudly. If something could be said about him and Tony is that when the call came, they always let their differences behind to face the greater evil. They had always worked smoothly no matter the state of their personal affairs.

Bucky gave a hard nod. He then brought from behind his back a manila folder. Steve had been wondering what it was ever since he saw him enter the room a while ago with it in arms, before Steve watched the evening news and proceeded to give Tony a run down about acceptable risks and Avengers support that ended up in a quarrel.

“I also took the liberty of,” Bucky shifted, lowered his gaze for an instant before staring back up, “of looking into Stark’s claims of sexual harassment.”

Good Heavens, if Steve heard the words ‘Sexual Harassment’ ever again…

His exasperation must’ve showed because Bucky added quickly. “Just for your peace of mind. I mean, you were so worried that I… anyway, I found nothing,” he said.

Steve had expected just as much, but it never hurt to have confirmation.

“Thanks Buck. I appreciate it,” he patted his old partner’s arm. Bucky nodded again, quickly, handing over the folder.

“I still think it’s a bad idea. You and Stark,” he said turning around, walking back into the living room. “And I don’t mean the Doom issue.”

Steve watched him leave, stunned.

So, did he know or not?

  


**

  


It was three in the morning. They all had agreed to stay at the Tower for the night in the latest debriefing over a surprise attack at seven o’ clock of a military building that had set off their alarms. Three more attacks with the same MO had happened in succession after they had attended to the first one. They had been expecting more, and still were, but everything had remained relatively calm. Thor had suggested they all remained together in the Tower so they’d be prepared for any more ‘surprises’. It had been a sound idea.

Jessica Drew, her life being as it were, and specially more after being kidnapped by skrulls, often found herself having problems to properly sleep more than four hours straight. She opened the door to the kitchen for a late night snack. It often helped her sleep.

“ ’Sup?”

Spider-Man was seated at the table eating what appeared to be a peanut butter sandwich.

“Hey,” she greeted and made a beeline for the fridge. She hoped against hope that the other spider hadn’t eaten all of the ice-cream. Whenever he was around, the ice cream was one of the first foods to go in his kitchen raids.

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” asked the boy, munching.

“Bad dream. What’s your excuse?” Great, the ice cream was there but some inconsiderate had eaten all of the chocolate leaving only the strawberry and vanilla in the box. She huffed, annoyed, ice cream box under an arm, and went to retrieve a spoon to sit later on the other side of the table, facing Spider-Man.

“Steve and Tony are killing each other in the room next to mine. They won’t let me sleep.”

Spiderwoman just stared blankly. She nodded for him to continue with the spoon full of ice cream midway to her mouth.

“After the debriefing Tony went to see Steve in his room. He’d been asked to, remember? This afternoon. Big fight. Everyone was there. Fun times,” he grabbed a big bite of his sandwich. He spoke again once he’d swallowed. “So it was kind of okay at first. They were quiet, probably still being civil to each other. Then there was unintelligible shouting, that’s when I knew it’d get ugly. I tried to tune it off, really. But when the banging, thumping, whining and groaning started I knew I wouldn’t make it. I heard a crash too and then screaming.” Spider-Man shook his head and shuddered. “Sometimes having super-senses isn’t that good of a thing.”

“So,” Jessica prompted.

“So last time I went up to listen in, they were still at it, so here I am. Eating away my worries.” He had finished his sandwich and was now cleaning off the peanut butter jar. “I just hope there’s still enough of them left in the morning to recognize the bodies. Shouldn’t we, like, intervene or something?” he asked with such concern that it made Jessica feel like patting him on the head.

“Leave them be,” she advised. The vanilla ice cream had been effectively devoured. Next was the strawberry one.

“But, but, they’re hurting themselves. Again,” whined Spider-Man. “If worse comes to worst, we can call Thor. Right?” he looked expectantly at her.

“Sure thing,” she replied arching a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at the strangely appealing thought. “Sure thing,” she repeated.

The two spiders ate in silence, which was a testament on how worried Spider-Man had been, considering it was hard to shut him up most of the time.

  


*

  


When Peter went back to his room at roughly four in the morning, the next room was eerily silent and he prayed for both of the oldest Avengers members to still be alive when everyone got ready to part in a few hours. And for Jarvis to not notice he’d eaten all of the peanut butter and the chocolate ice cream.

  


**

  


“He’s my best friend since almost forever! He’s even seen me naked more times than I’ve seen myself naked. And I don’t like that face you’re making right now, just letting you know.” Tony was looking directly into blue narrowed eyes. Steve’s frown was impressive. “Oh, c’mon. Hasn’t Sam ever seen you unnecessarily naked? Seen you in a thong? Helped you choose one? Haven’t you bathed with him in the same room or the same shower stall twice or more? Shared often the swimming pool? Watched porn together? Gone to get your nails done in matching pink and purple with little sparkling dust diamonds?” Tony didn’t like that deepening frown on his bed partner. They were both coming down from a sex high. Somehow their discussion about the evening’s events had led to a discussion about flirting with coworkers and then to a discussion about jealousy and finally to shouting and rough fucking. They had broken the pretty flower patterned vase in the room. Water and roses all over the rug. Jarvis was going to kill them.

“No Tony, I haven’t. Have you?” Steve’s voice was level but his face spoke volumes of how much he disapproved of Tony’s questioning.

“Not with Sam. But Rhodey and I— See? You’re doing that face again,” Steve obviously hadn’t had very good, very close friends like Tony had. He had to admit that it made him feel special, this little possessive side of Commander Rogers. Commander Rogers, S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms. Hmm. Sexy.

“You are a shameless flirt Tony and I’m willing to admit you may even do it unconsciously.” A sigh. A gentle kiss, soft press of lips on lips. “It’s okay, I guess. I wish you didn’t do it, though. But you are who you are and maybe I should loosen up a bit too. I’d just like you to tone it down.”

“Rhodey doesn’t like men,” said Tony, reassuring him. “And I promise to watch my charming self more closely from now on,” Steve only made an approving noise and stroked his side, hand going further then to trace along his spine, making a short stop to draw circles on his lower back before going even lower to squeeze a firm handful of Tony’s buttocks. After the immediate sharp intake of breath it got from him, Tony’s hand flew to join Steve’s. Wide incredulous eyes looking directly at another set of clear blue eyes.

“I still can’t believe you bit me in the ass,” Tony guided Steve’s hand around his cheeks, over the marks. “Several times,” he added in an awed whisper.

Steve’s face turned bright red. He didn’t reply and rolling onto his back, stared at the ceiling, as if it hadn’t the same boring pattern it always did. As if it really was that interesting.

Tony wasn’t deterred.

“Have you bitten other asses before?”

A reluctant “Yes.”

“Sharon’s? Have you bitten Sharon’s ass?”

“Maybe.”

“Diamondback’s?”

Steve huffed and shrugged uncomfortably. “What is this? Twenty Questions or what?” He still didn’t look at Tony, and he was still doing an amazing impersonation of a beet.

“Hey, you asked all sorts of questions about Rhodey so I get to ask mine, too.” Tony rubbed Steve’s stomach; kissed each one of his pectorals and he seemed to relax. They lay there in silence for a few seconds, Steve humming contentedly under Tony’s touch.

“So is this a fetish of yours or are you some kind of Butt Vampire?”

“Oh God,” Steve groaned miserably, threw both arms over his eyes. Tony was trying and failing to stifle a laugh beside him.

After a while and still hiding his face, Steve spoke aloud.

“When you had the Extremis,” he paused, reminiscing, “I hated that thing. I hated what it did to you. Made you think you were invincible, omnipotent, that you were beyond humankind, beyond…me,” he confessed, his face in the open now, contorted in an old sadness.

Tony didn’t know how to answer to that, he couldn’t remember how it felt like to have the Extremis or what kind of thoughts or not thoughts crossed his mind back then either. The only thing he truly knew about the Extremis were the technical notes and the programming from which he took the bases for his newest armor.

Steve’s throat bobbed before he spoke again, “But you wore this golden undersuit.” And the blush was back even more intense than before if that was possible.

Tony remembered the golden undersuit. When he had seen it he had thought it was very nifty. He’d liked it. It had made him look hot.

“I couldn’t stop staring at your shiny,” a swallow, “golden,” another swallow, “ass.”

“Huh.”

“You’d be talking, fighting, anything and my eyes would trail against my will to your…rear. God, I hope no one ever noticed.” This time Steve’s face turned to his, impossibly red with this bashful and oh so endearing expression on him.

“I always reasoned that it was normal to, err, fantasize about friends, I mean, it happens, when people are close, as close as we are, it happens sometimes. Right?”

“I guess so, yeah. Yes.” Probably. It happened to Tony anyway.

“I just didn’t realize at first that after the undersuit, you were in almost all of my fantasies. More than any other people known to me,” Steve looked away. “This is so embarrassing.”

Tony was, well, giggling. Steve glared but the chuckles and giggles didn’t waver.

“C’mon Tony, I bare my soul and you laugh at me,” he protested.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—I’m trying to wrap my mind around Captain America fantasizing about me in a golden skintight undersuit.”

A defeated sigh. “Just forget about it.” Then the faintest of murmurs, “And I’m not Captain America anymore.”

“No, no, you see, I can recreate it,” replied Tony, and as he said this, covered himself in gold, an almost exact replica of the Extremis suit, if only for some sexy variations here and there, like the way it stuck even more tightly to his body than the original and the accentuated shininess in his pectorals, thighs, ass and crotch areas.

Steve eyed him entranced, closed his half open mouth self-consciously and said nothing.

“So tell me, handsome, how’d that fantasy of yours go?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he asked with a lazy smile, the fingertips of his right hand caressing the other’s face.

Steve blushed, it was quite endearing, as he cleared his throat and eyed once more the boring ceiling.

“It doesn’t matter, Tony. Besides, we’ve got to get up in five hours so let’s just sleep, okay?”

Now, this was strange. Why wouldn’t he want to share his little fantasy? He’d told Tony about his past partners and some nice dirty anecdotes as well, just like Tony had. They also had exchanged some of their other fantasies so at this point, Steve should know there was nothing he could say that would shock or disgust him when Tony’s stories, on the other hand, had made Steve drop his jaw more than a couple of times.

“Is it too kinky? Does it involve ropes, handcuffs, lingerie, high heels, costumes, whips, candles, paddles – _again_ –, knives, guns…”

Steve let out a funny squeak and made to shut Tony’s mouth with a hand.

“None of it!” he replied scandalized, “Just let it go, okay?”

Well, Tony was only pointing out some of the more popular kinks he knew. He’d been pretty straightforward about his kinks since day one and Steve hadn’t needed much encouragement to be open about his own so far. The ones he didn’t share Tony discovered along the way, just like today with the ass biting. Actually, he’d noticed that Steve seemed to have quite a fixation with his behind, he liked to squeeze it, he’d grope or slap his cheeks when no one was around and once he’d even asked to let him spank him— Oh.

Tony squirmed away and once his mouth was free, ventured his guess, “I bottom, don’t I? In your fantasy.”

There was no verbal answer but the cues were all there in Steve’s renewed blush and his suspiciously avoiding gaze. It was, well, cute the way Steve had been mindful of him around the topic. It was clear what was what he wanted, more proof of that would be their first night together and the incident in Hel that he had all but bullied him into recounting two days ago.

“It’s alright Steve. To tell you the truth, I was thinking about trying again. Bottoming, I mean.” He had, he really had thought about it. The problem with Tony was that he’d watched the pornos, he’d read the smut, he’d seen the pictures and he’d researched… extensively, and he had wanted, he still wanted to feel that way but when he’d tried before he’d met with disastrous and more painful than pleasurable results so he had understood that maybe, he just wasn’t made for it, plain and simple.

“If anything, I just confirm to myself that I don’t like it at all and finally give it up altogether,” reasoned Tony. Steve was looking at him with a mix of awe, hope and what seemed like gratefulness, then his face closed up in concern.

“You don’t have to—“ he started to say but Tony interrupted.

“But I want to. Maybe I was doing it wrong; maybe I’m just a lousy bottom. The thing is, I’ll try one last time.” As he said this, Tony smiled at Steve who was poorly losing a fight against the dopey grin that was taking over the whole of his face.

“I—Thank you. I promise it’ll be worth it,” He scooted closer to Tony and kissed him with burning dizzying passion. Once they separated, Tony feeling more satisfyingly tired than he’d felt in a while, rolled onto his back to go to sleep. He was already drifting to sweet dreamland when there was a rustle and a strong arm came to rest astride him. He wiggled away. His eyes felt heavy, even closed; his face and body were slack. A good work out always helped him to rest better and boy, had he had a workout tonight.

Another rustle, and the strong arm from before was back on him, this time, however, it dragged him closer to, and then half over, a warm solid body, head pillowed on a wide chest. Another arm came to circle his waist. He tried to squirm away but the grip on him was firm, unwavering.

“Why don’t you like to cuddle? ” Steve asked into black soft hair. “You always end up sleeping a mile away from me.”

Tony’s eyes refused to open. His voice was also slightly labored when he answered, but he did, “I was trying to give you space.” He hadn’t wanted to make Steve feel trapped. He hadn’t wanted to seem clingy either and very few of his previous partners had been into cuddling. Tony had assumed, well, whatever he’d assumed was moot now because apparently Steve liked to cuddle, wanted to cuddle and Tony was more than happy to oblige.

“Call me a sap, but I like to cuddle.” The response came with a snort.

Well then. Tony sighed contentedly and made himself comfortable. He was almost asleep when he heard the sound of a door opening and closing in the next room. Tony could’ve turn off the enhanced hearing provided by his suit but why bother? Most everyone in the building had enhanced senses and he had never liked being left out.

“Peter’s back in his room,” he announced.

“I know. I hope we didn’t spook him... too much.” Gentle hands petted his back as Steve spoke.

“Bet he thinks one if not both of us are dead.”

Tony felt the rumble under him before he heard the small laugh. “Good night, Tony.”

A yawn.

“Nite, Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Rhodey have been BFFs for a long long time, and yes, Rhodey did get a manicure while Tony got himself a perm (I'll never forgive Rae Lacosta for that!) [here.](http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb401/Dangwhyme/?action=view&current=PurpleNails.jpg)
> 
> Also, Tony had no qualms about [walking around in thongs ](http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb401/Dangwhyme/?action=view&current=best-friends-dont-mind-thongs.jpg)with Rhodey present and even had a [shower stall](http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb401/Dangwhyme/?action=view&current=bathstallinhelicopter.jpg) in his private helicopter, which was piloted by, yeah, Rhodey.
> 
> They are very close, very good friends.
> 
> Chapter title:  
> “I'D RATHER FIGHT WITH YOU THAN MAKE LOVE WITH ANYONE ELSE” / Nick Mercer in _The Wedding Date_ movie.


	8. THEN HE SAID SOMETHING I NEVER EXPECTED TO HEAR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Thor speech.

**T** ’was early morn, ye seventh hour of ye day most precisely. Ev’ry Avenger that hath taketh cover for ye night at ye Tower was risen now, alert and engaged. ‘T’was ye day Doom hath demanded a gathering with both Steven and Iron Man for uncertain reasons by means of dubious threats. Ye wretched villain hath spouted some nyfles about having proof of spies led by American gye folk, with remarkable involvement of ye USA’s super powered organized cells newest yone –ye felon hath proclaimeth– transgressing Latveria’s boundaries, trespassing his palace seemingly intent on ye stelend of State’s secrets, engaging hym in heathed battle upon discovery. There have allegedly been civilian casualties, all of it undoubtedly vile lies. Proof he woulde expose to ye United Nations council as well as ye entirety of Midgard lest ‘the original Captain, not the new inferior one’ together with Stark agreed to a private encounter in his domains.

Thor hath knoweth Doom’s intentions were far from honorable then, he hath not stopped his comrades from acquiescing to his demands, however, for he too knoweth Doom was not a man to maketh hollow threats.

As it were, everichyon were readying themselves along ye equipment to send Steven and Anthony to that which ye plenary of ye Avengers hath convened to be a most foul trap. Ye noise in ye living room reminded ye Odinson of ye olden days at ye Manor, when times hath been friendlier and brothers in arms hath not held ardent grudges against each other, hath not tried to end oen another’s life. There hath been no betrayal yet and no soul woulde have conceived such an abominable happening of events.

Noh-Varr and Stark were entangled in a discussion regarding ye team’s communication lines concealment for ye mission. It was a most amusing sight.

Many comrades, both fellow Avengers and not, hath asked Thor how hath he granted Anthony forgiveness so readily. How hath he reacquainted himself to his erstwhile friend with ye ease no oen of hem hath so far. Most of hem attributed his clement absolution of Iron Man to his divine heritage. How misguided were the lot of hem!

Agelessness gifted oen with a unique perspective of life. Threading the both of mortal and immortal worlds for so long taught oen to humble oenself and let go of ye past for such a thing served naught but to heave oen down if left to cling. Oen should learn from it, carry on ye lesson, not ye past itself for it’ll slug oen’s pace on ye way to ye future. Will turn oen’s path into a rocky, agonizing, untraversable venture instead of ye easy walk of ye ones who learn not to dwell into misfortunes of yore.

Hath the Almighty Thor forgiveth Anthony? Nay, he hath certainly not and he woulde not for ye man whose misdeeds hath grieved him so was long gone. Forever lost if the fates allowed. Ye Anthony of here in ye present day was not yon man; to expect hym to apologize for sins he hath not memories of, to expect a man to bow and ask forgiveness in ye name of another, bear ye shame of another was unjust. Ye other Anthony hath probably knoweth this. Ye other Anthony was dead, woulde not come back and perhaps he hath thus won. Natheless, Thor saw ye good in ye bad: he hath gotten back ye Anthony he knew and hath held close during his olde Avenger days, ye time before he hath transcendeth the living planes to save his loved Asgard.

“You know what? Bite. My. Shiny. Metal. Ass.” Anthony was indubitably done wrangling with fellow Noh-Varr who looked mildly taken aback by his crude speech. Thor smiled. Steven, who stood beside him, on ye contrary, stiffened. Thanks to his newest battle robes, it was easy a feat to catch ye pinking of his face.

“I could. My DNA has insect properties, which provide me with a jaw strong enough, and sharp enough teeth as well, to bite through metal itself. Turn around.” Ye Kree youth pointed to ye back of ye couch with a movement which conveyed his intent to follow through with ye taunt. Anthony’s eyes widened humorously. Steven’s seemed about to hurdle out.

“No one is biting anyone’s ass. Noh-Varr, you know Tony was kidding, don’t you?” Steven stepped in with haste. “Don’t take everything he says too seriously.”

“Yeah. It’s a manner of speech. Just… I’ll go get the Quinjet ready, ‘kay?” Iron Man was already exiting ye hall. “And I still won’t change the Alfa frequency of the secure Stark Satellital Channel, I’ve got my reasons. So can it,” he seien further before disappearing through ye open elevator doors.

“I kind of want to see Varr bite through metal, though,” uttered Spider-Man. “It’d be cool.”

“I kind of wanted to see the ass biting myself,” Asweren back fair Spider-woman, much to hir comrade’s distress.

That’s when Thor stole a glance to his olde friend and found him rather distressed. “Are thou not feeling well, Steven? Thy face doth look worryingly red, and thou seem to be holding thyself fairly stiff.”

“I’m fine Thor. I, thanks, I’m fine,” responded Steven rashly as he turned to wheir Maria Hill stood. “Maria, we are ready to leave!” he bellowed over to hir.

Ye Odinson was no stranger to ye most recent odd misbehavings of his olde friends. He trusted hem to share whatever wouldst need to be shared –if so were to happen– when ye time was right withal.

  


*

  


“MODOK is a fool and a thief!” Doom’s voice was just this side of too loud. “He and his pathetic little group of laughable pseudo-terrorists.”

The accommodations weren’t the best out there, mostly because Victor had too much of a penchant for pompous villain-esque decorations and although the fireplace was a nice touch, the room’s overall grimness was a bit overwhelming. And those curtains, God, they were terrible. At least both he and Steve weren’t tied up or chained to their seats as circumstances often found them when they ‘visited’ the Latverian dictator. That gothic oak padded chair with iron handles in the left corner and Tony had history, sordid tales of deceit, manipulation and bondage. He called her ‘Indries’.

“MODOK’s been stealing tech from you and you don’t know how he‘s doing it. Got it,” replied Tony flippantly; he thought he knew where Doom was going with all of this. He got a hard glare from the madman as an answer and if looks could kill… actually, there was a high possibility this wasn’t the original Doom but a Doombot, and everyone knew Doom loved to equip his Doombots with laser vision.

“There is no way scum such as him could outsmart Doom,” metal boots clanked on the floor as he closed in on Tony as if daring him to contradict his self–congratulatory statement.

“And yet he did. He’s still doing it right now and you can’t even track him down,” Tony retorted.

“Tony!” hissed Steve next to him, “Don’t provoke him”.

Tony ignored him. He was, as they say, on a roll.

“So this whole negotiation circus of yours is to get us to lure him out for you,” and Doom’s hands clenching were answer enough. Of course the man would never admit to be in need of help. Of course he wanted Tony’s assistance, they had worked together rather well in the past, albeit grudgingly, and Doom would never ask Reed so Tony was his best option, and to get to him he went through Steve with their most recent failed little secret mission as leverage. How… _Doom_ of him.

“You expect us Avengers to bait him with tech of our own, you know he wants it, I’m sure you got word of his laughable takeover attempt of our databases and systems a few days ago,” Tony reasoned. “Well, fat chance. We are not your puppets.” At this, Tony looked over to Steve for support. After all, Tony wasn’t even leader of his own team. Steve was the Big Boss, he should be the one denying Doom. _Way to steal the show, Tony._

Blue eyes locked with Tony’s briefly, before Steve pinned the megalomaniac in front of them with a stare. “That’s right Victor. You are just wasting both of our times. This meeting is over.” He stood up and motioned Tony to do the same.

“You forget, Rogers, that Doom has evidence of you and your team invading Doom’s palace. Footage of you initiating hostilities against Doom and Latverian people, civilians, in Doom’s own home.” If anything, Tony had always hated Doom’s ‘mightier than thou’ attitude and the way he always talked about himself in third person. Did he have any idea of how ridiculous he sounded?

The clanking sound started again as Doom went to stir what little fire was left in the fireplace.

“Doom is not, however, man without reason. Leave Stark with Doom, he shall work under Doom’s direction and once Doom’s righteous retribution is inflicted upon MODOK, he shall be returned safe to you.” Always with a knack for the dramatic, he hadn’t even turned from the fireplace to state his demand.

See? Tony had been right. Doom wanted him.

Steve snorted, “And somehow you thought I’d agree more readily to that than lending you my whole team.”

Now Doom did turn to look down on them.

“As if anyone cared about him at all after of what he’s done. As part of your group, he’s expendable at most and you more than anyone would know.” His voice dripped condescension. Tony took pride in his quick suppression of the wince that almost escaped him; that comment shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

“You just did not say that, Mister,” growled Steve, jaw set, tense shoulders, hands in tight fists. Tony walked up to him and gave a quick squeeze to his right bicep. “It’s okay Steve,” he whispered into his ear.

“Gee, you sure know how to sweet-talk people. I’m ready to jump into your arms, oh Victor,” he said to Doom, inflecting the quip with every ounce of sarcasm he possessed, and soon enough his feet were taking him to the room’s exit, Steve in tow. Two guards blocked their way as a mask-muffled voice boomed behind them.

“You,” the guards pointedly readied their weapons as Doom spoke, “seem to be operating under the delusion that you have any choice in this. How would you like to be the cause of an international incident between Latveria and your country? How do you think the world would like Big Bad America bullying Doom’s small hard-working country? There’s enough material in Doom’s hands to make it happen.”

Steve and Tony looked at him for a few seconds, a smirk on each one’s face.

“You have not. An agent of ours has hacked into your systems and deleted everything; that same agent also looked for any copies or backups out there and effectively destroyed them while you were busy ‘negotiating’ with us,” revealed Steve smugly although Doom didn’t seem fazed. Instead, he signaled to one of the guards to come over and when he did, extended his hand to receive something tiny and red colored from him. Reaching with his other hand, Doom took the little figure between thumb and forefinger for Steve and Tony to have a better look at it.

“Would you perchance be referring to this worthless thing? The maggot was caught by the castle’s security, attempting to infiltrate our systems with low frequency radioed instructions from Stark. As if you had not learned anything of the first time you attempted the very same stunt with the very same maggot’s aid only to fail miserably. To say this was most foolish would be redundant. Doom’s systems are as impenetrable as Doom’s own armor,” gloated the tyrant.

“Except for MODOK. He’s penetrated you alright,” muttered Tony and Steve had barely heard him but his mouth quirked upwards for all of a second before setting back in a tight line, his eyes never leaving their tiny teammate in Doom’s hand.

“Ant, please,” corrected O’Grady weakly, “As in Ant-Man. Maggot is something completely different, even I know that,” he turned up his swollen face upwards to address Doom as directly as a man pressed between metal fingers could.

Somewhere, one of the smartest scientists in the world silently thanked the oftentimes-crude redhead for the correction, sure that he’d have bolted out of his hideout to do it himself otherwise.

“Shut up, insect!” bellowed Doom, he threw Ant-Man to Steve who caught him with the skill only super soldiers had to do it saving him from further damage.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly to his catch.

“Been better,” the reply was so low only enhanced senses could catch it. Tony was really digging his new armor and his high definition sound wave receptors.

“Take the trash out with you and leave Stark here. You are dismissed,” commanded Doom, then pointing to _Indries_ , he spoke to Tony. “You may sit there and await for further instructions.”

And Tony was about to reply with something witty but Steve’s retort was faster and final. You could tell by his hard glare and set jaw. “I think not, Victor. I’ll leave with both of my men.” He tugged at Tony’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not your man,” replied a tiny voice; no one paid it any attention.

“Again, Rogers, you misunderstand your position. You have no options here.” Doom was so full of himself, Tony felt pity for the Fantastic Four for they had to deal with him more times than the Avengers or Iron Man himself had. “I have—“

“You have nothing, Doom,” said a familiar voice. There he was, growing back to his original size, the Wasp. It had been confusing at first when Tony learned that Hank was now the Wasp. It had been heart wrecking later, when he had found out why. Tony had done so much damage and remembered nothing of it, and at times like those, when he found out something horrible, result of his forgotten actions, he understood how was that he would deserve the mistrust and cold shoulders from his teammates. It made it incredibly painful to have Thor’s unconditional support back or Steve’s… affections. And yet, everyone was being civil if not nice to him.

“I infiltrated your systems, Doom, and deleted everything and anything you had concerning the Avengers and its members in your databases, archives and backups,” said Hank, arms akimbo, a pleased smile on his face. “I also disabled them since the start of this meeting and for the rest of the day. You’ve got nothing.”

Doom fisted his hands, his whole body radiating anger and disbelief. “HOW—“

“We set up an exclusive two way communication channel between Tony and Ant-Man through Stark’s satellite’s secure frequency. It’d take you a while to pick up on them and then some more to hack into the satellite and decode the encrypted signals. Tony was hooked to Reed too and together relayed Ant-Man the necessary information to hack into your systems along step by step how-to instructions, having considered his intellectual limitations. By the time you found out the intrusion and successfully managed to pinpoint the trespasser’s location, I –who had also been spying on their channel independently and had gathered enough to continue on my own– had gained access to your systems myself. At first you couldn’t have detected my signal because it was very low key, only strong enough to be able to spy on Tony’s comm channel, then your attention was diverted toward capturing Ant-Man leaving me free to do as I willed with your systems, which by the way, were already half infected with my Trojans,” explained Hank while everyone stared at him, some of the guards gaping, Doom raging in silence, body still, hands tightly clenched and trembling.

“So was I a decoy? And I know you somehow insulted me somewhere in your babbling, you’re lucky I didn’t care to listen past ‘communication channel’, “ accused O’Grady angrily pointing weakly at Hank with a tiny finger. “I could have died, man. You are supposed to be heroes! What the hell, guys?! Seriously, what the hell?!”

“We told you to surrender peacefully if you were found out,” replied Steve not without guilt. He had been against the plan at first but Maria, Bucky and Tony had convinced him to agree in the end.

“We equipped your suit with an alarm that would set off if you were in real danger. Steve, Wasp and I would abort the mission to back you up,” said Tony, “Which makes me wonder why you’re so beaten up.” There had been no alert to his very well camouflaged armor earpiece and the scans indicated that Ant-Man’s suit’s beacon was operational.

“At first I resisted and fought but when I realized I couldn’t win I tried to escape and tripped down the stairs. The helmet got hit hard and I got stuck at this size. Then these guys came to pick me up,” confessed O’Grady with embarrassment. “This is what I get for trying to be all heroic like you guys,” groaned Ant-Man pitifully.

“You!” bellowed a furious Doom, finally done with their chatter and his silent fuming.

“YOU SHALL BEND TO DOOM’S WILL!!!” He raised his hands and pink lighting sparkled with crackling sounds around his raised fists. Now things were about to get interesting.

“I’m sorry but I only bend for the ones I really, really like,” quipped Tony mentally giving the order for his armor to come out, Steve groaned at the comment but got ready to battle with a pronounced eye rolling –O’Grady safely stored in one of his pouches–, and Hank was already two sizes bigger and growing. When a dozen of Doombots flooded the room, Tony knew the party had officially started.

“AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!” roared Steve.

  


**

  


The fight had been short and the Doom that had been negotiating with Rogers and Stark had turned out to be a robot. Apparently, everyone except Eric had been expecting it. He was the only one surprised when the thing exploded.

Ant-Man, despite everything, loved being Ant-Man, and liked his teammates too. ‘Tasha was a fine piece of cheesecake, sweet-cheeks Sharon too and boy, Brun-buns was a burning hot babe; Moon Ass was off-putting at times but the guy was reliable, Nova was fun to be around, Beast was a pretty cool guy too and War Machine was intimidating, less than Moon Knight –for all the good it made- but nice to hang out with. You could tell he was friends with Stark, sometimes he would ditch the team to rush to his aid although why and how where they so close was a mystery. They were so different, but then again Rogers was friends with Stark too and they were even more different. This, Eric had kind of a problem with, because for all that Rogers was a great boss, very understanding and chill –he had apologized again for putting him in danger before climbing on the Quinjet and he had even apologized for both Pym and Stark even though they had apologized themselves– it was insufferable whenever he was together in the same room with Iron Man. Like right now.

“That uni-beam was impressive. You’ve been holding back.” Rogers had praised everyone for their good work, Pym and him, but he’d been taking his time complimenting Iron Man. He was still at it, between boring talk about past adventures, S.H.I.E.L.D. bossing anecdotes and experiences he’d throw in now and then flattery that was promptly returned by Stark.

“I’ve just been working some upgrades into my armor. Many would think it’d be harder now, what with it being part of me and all, but it’s actually easier.” The way he talked about his armor and tech left Eric little doubt that the guy got off on it.

“I like your new armor.” Oh, for the love of—

“Well, I like your new costume myself,” Stark leered and Eric rolled his eyes. “It’s not as symbolic as your Captain America one, for which I’ll always have a soft spot for –oh c’mon, don’t give me that look, I’m being serious here. But this new one has a good smart design, is pretty unobtrusive which makes your movements look and feel smoother and it really brings out your eyes –okay, now it’s acceptable to give me the look. Yeah, that one—” he chuckled.

“JEEEEEESUS! Can you be any gayer for each other?” shouted Eric, finally fed up with both of them. Two sets of eyes looked at him, Stark remained looking straight ahead, piloting the jet, smirking.

“Calm down, Ant-Man. They’ve always been like that.” Of course, Pym hadn’t lived through Captain America and Iron Man trying to kill each other some months ago –that had been, apparently, one of those nasty green things, a skrull– but he was an Avenger’s founding member and had been around them for a long, long while. “When you have friends as close as Steve and Tony are, you’ll understand.”

“Puh-lease! I’ve got real close friends and we ain’t complimenting each other’s eyes, or telling each other how beautiful we are nor admiring our ripped bodies!” complained Eric, outraged.

“I don’t have a ripped body,” put in Stark not so helpfully with a mocking pout.

“Your body is fine Tony. Really,” assured Rogers.

“See? See what I tell you?” exclaimed Eric outraged, arms thrown out towards the offending duo to emphasize his point.

“Shut up O’Grady or we’ll start making out,” threatened Stark with a bemused grin, eyes still on the road. How did he do it? It was as if he had eyes on the back of his head. Rogers just smiled at his teammate.

“Damn, Rogers. That’s why no matter how many dates you’ve been taking Agent 13 out to, she still won’t take you back!” chided Eric. Seriously, Carter and Rogers had been going out again for a while now but she still had him friend-zoned. This time Stark did look at them, first at Eric, then at Rogers, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Dates, huh?” he said, “You and Sharon getting back together?” His tone was playful but Rogers was clearly distressed.

“God, no! We are not! We hang out as friends! Friends!” Somehow he had felt necessary to emphasize that last word.

“Oh,” teased Stark, “Should I be jealous?” The man seemed to be having the time of his life. Pym was too focused on repairing the Ant Helmet to pay them any attention. Probably too used to ignoring this kind of scene.

“Of course not! She’s made a life of her own and I couldn’t be happier with whom—what I have right now!” fumbled Rogers, then looked behind to Ant-Man. “Shut up Eric!”

“I wasn’t even talking!” complained Eric.

Stark let out a cheerful laugh, Rogers glared at the windshield. He wasn’t angry; he seemed more like flustered, which was weird. It was weird seeing the Boss flustered.

“There isn’t a day, these past weeks, that I don’t wake up or go to sleep thinking I’m the luckiest man alive,” he said. It sounded like a confession, like something meant only to –well it couldn’t be Stark, right? Something meant only to someone that absolutely wasn’t present to hear, Eric decided. It erased Stark’s smirk from his face, though, he went back to staring at the road and they spent the way back to the Tower in relative silence.

From time to time Rogers would steal a glance at Iron Man whose face was pretty much blank. Sometimes he’d attempt to talk to him but Stark let the small conversation die quickly. They talked to Pym and Eric, but the upbeat chatter the two had had going on between them before didn’t come back.

Eric knew it was incredibly stupid of him yet he couldn’t help thinking that he should apologize for something.

  


***

  


“You haven’t told him,” stated Maria before taking a sip from her coffee cup. Pepper and Maria had been having these girl-dates since Tony’s crusade of self-destruction had bonded them. Natasha would join them some days too and they would talk about everything and nothing at all. Today, Natasha was away in Avengers’ business, secret Avengers’ business.

Maria and Pepper, on the other hand, had some time to kill before Steve and the others arrived at the Tower and the commander called for a debriefing. They were already flying back from Latveria in the Quinjet.

The Tower’s café in the first floor was cozy, very homely and had the best coffee in town. Steve had given the old couple owning the café across the street a concession to set up shop in the building after they had announced they were moving since they couldn’t afford their rent anymore and Tony had reacted accordingly: as if it was the end of the world. The little café was already everyone’s favorite so their moving in had been more than welcomed.

“No,” sighed Pepper, “And I won’t. I don’t need that right now or ever. Neither does he,” she said with a slow shake of her head.

Maria snorted, then sipped her coffee.

“It was a mistake. A huge one,” added the redhead, looking sadly into her cup.

“Now you tell me,” replied Maria.

“I had lost Happy and I was losing him too. The two men I had ever loved were leaving me behind, alone. I didn’t want it; the day Happy had the accident he was going to be late to pick up Tony so he had left home without even saying goodbye that morning. Next time I met him he was in a coma and wasn’t waking up, he wouldn’t come back.” She hid her face in her hands, elbows resting on the table. “I couldn’t let it happen again, I needed to at least get something from Tony before he went and deserted me here without a proper farewell too.” Composing herself, Pepper looked back at Maria with a self-deprecating smile. “I’m an idiot.”

“You are not. We all thought he was dying, we all thought he wasn’t coming back. In desperate times, we do desperate things,” said Maria, patting one of her hands comfortingly.

“Why’d you do it, Maria?”

“Me? Well, for one, he’s Tony Fucking Stark. And he was sacrificing himself for a good cause. I thought I’d give him something to take with him to the other side. Whether he went to someplace good or someplace bad.” If there was even a place to go to. Maria wasn’t one to completely believe in Heaven or Hell despite her being acquaintances with gods and otherworldly beings.

“I guess you won’t tell him either,” asked Pepper with soft eyes.

“You guess right, Potts. Ain’t giving him the chance to brag,” replied Maria. Stark didn’t get to know how much she’d let him in nor how important she’d let him become.

He was going to die believing no one needed him, he had fought for what he had thought was right, had weighed war against his own friends for reasons he’d felt were important to fight for and it all had, unsurprisingly, blown up in his face, gone to shit. And he was going to die believing no one truly cared for him, that he was that expendable. No man as hardworking as him deserved to lose so much and die with such loneliness in his heart. For all his faults as director, he had tried his damnedest best to make a difference, to steer things right and she had admired him for that. She wasn’t going to let him die feeling unwanted.

“Well, it’s not like he hasn’t enough to brag about now. How many can say they nailed Captain America?” Pepper quickly corrected herself, “I mean, the original Captain America,” she said with a snigger.

“Yeah, well, no one really minds Barnes,” joked Maria. Both women laughed heartily.

“I’m just glad Stark’s got someone. The man’s a wreck when left to his own devices,” observed Maria, Pepper nodded in agreement.

“I just hope he’s the one that sticks. Maybe he can make the big difference because God knows that as much as I’ve tried, as much as we all have tried, we haven’t done a great job of keeping Tony together for long. There’s only so much one can take before desperately needing a break from it all or risk one’s sanity. Not even Rhodey has been able to keep up with him all this time. He was really mad about the secret heart operation, when he’d thought Tony had died. They didn’t talk to each other for some time. Even I left him for a while too. We all have left him at some time or another, except Steve.” A sad truth that Pepper had had trouble living with all these years.

“Hate to break it to you Potts, but what about the war?” pointed out Maria; she took a bite from one of the cookies in the table’s centre plate.

“They’ve had their share of fights, some worse than others, I won’t deny you that, but even then they’ve stuck together. During the war, Tony called him more than once and Steve didn’t hesitate a second to accept and go meet him each time,” replied Pepper.

Maria hadn’t heard of those secret meetings! That was an unimaginable breach of security, he could’ve been ambushed by the opposing faction, made hostage, been forced to reveal S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets or any number of other things.

But he hadn’t, had he? He hadn’t been taken advantage of.

“Well,” she conceded with an irritated sigh, more for show than anything, “If Rogers doesn’t stick, though, we can always invite him to our little club of ‘Scorned Stark’s Exes’. He already loves this place anyway.” Maria splayed her arms to encompass the café. Both women laughed.

Their pleasant date was soon interrupted by the Avenger’s comm. beeping.

“Hill.”

“Maria, gather everyone. Debriefing in twenty. Rogers out,” resounded a known voice through the little device.

“Understood,” answered Maria, picking up her wallet, leaving a generous tip on the table. It was her turn to pay.

Pepper followed her hurried pace out of the room. Both had their communicators on, calling every Avenger in the Tower and nearby. They were supposed to stay close for when Steve and the others arrived from the mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indries was a bad woman. Lear more about her and other Tony Stark exes [here.](http://www.republiquelibre.org/cousture/bd/IRNMN5B.HTM)
> 
> And yeah, Tony and Doom have worked together in the past. The did fine, mostly.
> 
> Chapter title:  
> “THEN HE SAID SOMETHING I NEVER EXPECTED TO HEAR” / J.D. from Scrubs.


	9. IT WAS VERY VERY EROTIC

**T** ony Stark was man enough to admit he was purring, or as close as purring as a human could get. He was lying comfortably on his stomach in his ridiculously big bed, exquisite Egyptian cotton under him, silk cover just above his hips, and he was naked, a gorgeous equally naked blonde giving him one of the top ten massages of his life. He loved Steve’s hands; they worked magic on his body leaving him feeling like putty.

“You are purring,” commented an amused deep voice.

“Am not.” Yeah, well, Tony was man enough to admit it… internally only. He hid his face between the soft pillows and sighed. Big strong hands finished working his shoulders and roamed lower, ten points on his middle back and then exquisite pressure on his muscles eased away any tension on their way down.

After a few minutes of bliss, Steve spoke again in his ‘I’ve made up my mind and I’m not changing it no matter what you say’ voice. “I won’t apologize,” he said, “for thinking myself lucky to have you, nor for having said it out loud back at the Quinjet.”

Tony moaned appreciatively when Steve undid the last stubborn knot to the right of his spine. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“No, you don’t,” agreed Steve with a hum; he pressed a kiss between Tony’s shoulder blades. “But I’m not giving you up so deal with it.”

Tony laughed a hearty laugh as Steve’s hands wandered to his lower back, stopping at the hem of the silk cover on him.

“Are you sure of this? I don’t really mind if you don’t…” started Steve, hands grabbing the bed cloth but not dislodging it, staying very still.

“Of course I am,” this was something that Steve wanted and Tony could and would give to him. He’d do just about anything for this man; he’d give him anything he asked too if it was within his powers to do so. And he had been actually looking forward to the night’s activities. Admittedly, he’d had bad experiences in the past but he would try once more, for Steve, because he hoped he was the one; that maybe he had been doing it all wrong before and Steve would be the one to show him the right way. The one that could bring him the pleasure he hadn’t been able to get from other partners. “Not that it wasn’t welcomed but I still think the wonderful massage wasn’t necessary,” said Tony with a contented chuckle.

“It was. You were pretty tense since that time at the Quinjet. And you have some minor injuries of which I’m going to know about later in detail whether you tell me the whole story or not,” replied Steve levelly, “I need you the most relaxed you can be if we are going to do this,” a sigh, a kiss to the small of his back, “So if you want to back down—“

“Steve, I want you inside me,” cut in Tony and wriggled his ass to better get his point across. Craning his neck to look back at his partner, he caught the good commander’s sharp inhale and noticed his cock swelling. “You like hearing me say that,” he teased, Steve was already half hard.

Cool air caressed Tony’s butt once the cover had been hastily taken out of the way, those magnificent hands he so much loved kneading him seconds later with open appreciation.

“You are getting tense again,” hot breath against his skin, one finger tracing along his right cleft, a tongue following behind. Anticipation coiled at the pit of Tony’s stomach.

“Relax Tony, I’ll be gentle, it’s going to be okay,” promised Steve in a whisper, his lips following the curve of his left buttock.

Tony let out an indignant huff, he wasn’t a blushing virgin and it was annoying to be treated as one. “You know this isn’t my first time,” he said.

Steve planted a kiss to his left inner thigh before replying. “Yes it is,” his tone firm, words full of confidence, “It’s your first time with me.”

Tony melted. And he might’ve been blushing too but he still was no virgin.

Two hands spread open Tony’s legs then a hot wet tongue trailed from his perineum upwards and Tony startled but Steve kept him pinned to the bed.

“You are not doing what I think you are doing, Stev—“ Tony moaned out loud, not finishing his sentence when the tongue circled briefly around his hole, shyly poking in next but not breaching.

“Oh God, oh God, you’re—“ Another moan. Steve had gotten his thumbs between his cheeks and separated them, exposing him, giving himself space to better tease his opening. Pleasure assaulted Tony with each swipe, his arousal spiked wildly with each prod of Steve’s tongue, which grew ever more daring each time nudging deeper.

By the time Steve started to really fuck him with his tongue, Tony was a babbling mess. He had been trying to say something, anything but brain functions shut down completely once a hand grabbed him by the hip urging him on hands and knees, another hand sneaking between his legs to stroke him in time with the invading thrusts. It was too much, he was going to come and he couldn’t even say it, moans and whimpers getting in the way. He was almost there, just a little more, a little more, his abdomen tightened, close, so close, yes yes, yes…

“Not yet”, and it was gone.

“You cruel bastard!” bellowed Tony and to add insult to injury, Steve laughed.

“I see you aren’t completely averse to anal stimulation,” he observed smugly and gave a light slap to the firm meaty globe to his left.

“I’m feeling quite averse to you right now,” quipped Tony, then in a lower voice, embarrassed, he confessed, “I do like it, though. I do enjoy it, at first. It’s just that well, it isn’t very pleasurable when trying to fit in something bigger and later it… it hasn’t gone well for me thereafter,” this last part was said with a defeated sigh.

“Let’s see how we can change that,” said Steve. He bit Tony’s right buttock, hard, suckled the abused skin, let it go and licked the red patch soothingly.

“You are the only partner I’ve ever had that likes leaving hickeys there,” mused Tony, “Ouchie, by the way.”

Oh, sweet splendid Steve, Tony didn’t deserve him at all. He trusted the man, he knew he’d do his absolutely best and then some to not disappoint, to redeem Tony’s past unsavory experiences and give him a nice one. Tony didn’t want to doubt him; he desperately wanted Steve to make him feel good.

Steve kissed his other butt cheek, “I love your ass,” probably meant as a response to the hickey comment, then “I want you on your back,” he commanded in his sexy authoritative voice --that Tony had told him once got him hard every time-- and Tony complied.

Steve laved Tony’s testicles, kissed the base of his member and took a long taste of him from base to tip, then went back to service his scrotum with his mouth. With his thumb, he massaged Tony’s perineum while he reached for the lubricant with his free hand. The thumb left a few seconds and when it came back massaging the sweet spot once again, a slippery finger probed at his entrance. Tony’s breath hitched.

“Shhhh, come on Tony, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay, relax for me,” cooed Steve before engulfing him in wet delicious heat. He bobbed his head up and down and Tony was in so much bliss he didn’t entirely notice the intrusion until the lubed finger started to move inside him.

With a loud pop, Steve freed his mouth, “Everything okay so far?” he asked, his finger curling within Tony lighting up nerves that made him arch wanting more.

“God, yes,”

“Tell me if it hurts, alright? I’ll know if you are lying, Tony, but I’d still like you to tell me when it’s too much.” With this and after a quick nod of agreement from Tony, Steve swallowed him down again, the finger left him and Tony didn’t whimper in protest, because that would be pathetic, he made this sound that suspiciously sounded like one but decidedly wasn’t a whimper. Soon enough the finger came back even more slick and accompanied by another one. This time Tony did notice the breach, felt them slowly burn their way in. He let out a shaky breath, still okay so far. It didn’t feel bad. Definitely a lot better than it usually had felt at this point in similar proceedings before, considering the girth of Steve’s fingers. Of course the mind-numbing blowjob, the hand softly fondling his sack, its thumb pressing and kneading the skin behind, was a huge help.

Steve sucked harder, his fingers thrust faster, deeper, scissoring him and then they found his prostate and, “Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” Tony had been struggling not to, hands clutching the sheets but Steve was too good, humming with gusto and taking more of him each time until he was nose deep in coarse hair. Tony arched and bucked up and Steve let him. He twisted his fingers, one last sharp brush against that special spot and Tony’s vision blurred. He came shouting something that might have or might have not been Steve’s name.

Steve swallowed all he could and let him go to lick him clean, mindful of his oversensitive state; his fingers still wedged deep inside moved slower this time, gently stretching him. Tony quivered every time they grazed his prostate but didn’t protest or move, too dazed and satiated to care. He distantly felt Steve’s fingers leave him and if he weren’t drowning in endorphins he would’ve resented the emptiness.

He heard the lubricant’s lid pop open again, heard some wet sounds, some thick-liquid was applied around his hole, a bit more barely inside and next came three slick fingers. He was full, he felt full but didn’t have mind enough to care about the burning stretching sensation this time. It was pretty tolerable.

“That’s good Tony, that’s good. You are so hot, just look at you, so beautiful”.

“Mmm’not a woman.” Apparently, Tony had regained speech or part of it at least. Steve’s lips were on his and he opened his mouth to let him in. It was a lazy, slow, deep kiss. Tony’s arms came around Steve’s neck, slid one hand up to thread calloused fingers in blond soft hair. One of them groaned, Tony wasn’t sure who, and then he felt it, Steve’s hard dick pressing against his thigh. Steve rocked into him, let out a moan and his fingers slipped out and then it was Tony’s turn to moan at the loss.

“On your side. Come on,” instructed the good Captain once he’d ended the kiss with visible reluctance. He stroked Tony’s hipbones before helping him move onto the new position and once done, he spooned behind him. Reaching for the foiled packet, Steve made fast of putting on the condom. Tony could feel his hurried movements behind and with the afterglow already webbing away, suddenly he didn’t know if he was ready yet or not. He didn’t want it to be like the other times; he didn’t want to have an unwelcome memory of Steve. A big hand petted his abdomen, trailed down his navel drawing circles on his skin.

“Calm down.” A sigh, a kiss at the nape of Tony’s neck followed by many more quick smaller ones. Steve pressed himself closer and his cock slid between Tony’s buttocks.

“Incoming!” announced Steve smiling, a pretty bad joke, even for Steve’s standards –and it was soul-wrecking how low those standards were—with the worst of timings too, and Tony snorted, then let out a shaky laugh, “Thought I’d told you not to do that again. You are terrible at it, being funny, I mean,” he said.

However terrible it had been, though, the joke had served its purpose and Tony had relaxed. A bit. Steve’s petting his stomach helped further.

“My bad,” apologized Steve with an unrepentant grin that Tony could feel on the back of his head.

Burning. The expected pain that came with anal penetration, but for once it wasn’t so bad, and it quickly started to recede. It was just the tip. Tony tried to move but strong arms held him in place.

“Stay still, get accustomed to the sensation first,” Steve nibbled Tony’s ear shell, kissed his neck.

So Tony waited. Breathed in and out.

“Ready?” prompted Steve, Tony nodded, and Steve’s cock slid in only an inch or two. He didn’t move for some time, until he was sure Tony was ready for more and moved in another inch.

“Too tight still,” would reply Steve every time Tony urged him to move. Inch by inch and after a few minutes that had seemed like an eternity, Steve was only halfway. He moved in another inch and waited. Tony let out an exasperated groan.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, you’re too slow! C’mon, give it to me! Now!” It didn’t hurt anymore; for a brief moment it had but then it became more of a ‘this doesn’t belong here’ kind of sensation. Usually by this time, Tony would’ve been short of begging his partner to hurry up and finish. Usually by this time, his partner would be deep in him and he’d been in too much in pain to keep on going. He had always been subtle; contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark was as selfless in bed as he was in other areas of his life. He’d always look for his partners to enjoy themselves more than enjoying himself first. It was hard for him to say ‘no’ in bed, much less ‘stop’ when his partner was having a good time. A good time because of him. That’s what Tony liked most about having sex: he could make people feel good, give them the time of their lives.

“I won’t let you let me hurt you Tony,” answered Steve, he moved another inch in and waited.

Tony was desperate. It didn’t hurt and he wanted more. He tried to move again and again Steve’s arms around him stopped the movement. At least this time the wait was shorter. And then shorter, then shorter until Steve was finally flush against his ass.

Finally.

“Finally.”

Steve hummed in agreement and didn’t move for a while. When Tony was about to squirm looking for friction, he slid out slowly, applied more lube on whatever little inches he got out, around the hole too, and thrust back in carefully. Tony keened, “Yes!” he shouted.

“How do you feel, is it good?” asked Steve, rocking in and out, always mindful of his movements and Tony’s body reactions to them.

Good? It was great, fantastic. It surprised Tony how good it was. Why couldn’t it have been this good before with his previous partners? Why was Steve different?

Steve’s thrusts were confident but gentle and once he’d found Tony’s prostate, he didn’t miss the sweet spot once.

Tony moaned and babbled and wriggled. Steve licked a line from shoulder to neck and then whispered, not a single hint of doubt in his voice, sure and honest, unwavering in his truthfulness “I love you Tony.”

That was it. Steve loved him. None of the others had ever loved Tony. Not Sunset, not Indries, not Ty, and he and Henry had just been friends finding comfort in each other; the actor had been only trying to help him through his alcoholism the only way Tony had allowed him when too lost in the need for a drink. Maybe if Ru had been into pegging, it would’ve felt good too.

His erection surprised him. He had gotten hard from Steve’s cock in his ass and by the looks of it coming again soon even. Steve took him in hand, swift quick strokes getting him closer to the edge.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” Tony gasped, white knuckled hands clutching the bed sheets. “More, I’m so close, please, oh please, fuck, please”.

Steve’s thrusts grew erratic, his breathing rough on Tony’s neck. “Tell me Tony, p-please, tell me you like it,” his hand moved faster, Tony could feel Steve getting close inside him too.

“L-love it.”

“You are mine.” Faster, deeper, but never rough or careless.

“Yes.” With a twist of Steve’s wrist, Tony was metaphorically punched in the gut by his orgasm. He spilled in Steve’s hand and on the bedclothes, eyes closed. White stained the fine black Egyptian cotton.

Steve rode Tony’s spasms and bit his shoulder when he followed, coming deep inside him.

They basked together in their afterglow, Steve soothing the bite mark on Tony’s skin with his tongue. He let out a contented sigh and admired his work. Sliding carefully out, he then disposed of the condom.

“Steve,” rasped Tony when a thick finger gingerly explored his anus, “I don’t think—“

“Just checking if you are okay,” explained Steve. He gave Tony a quick peck on the jaw and rolled him onto his back, rested his head on his chest.

“Don’t sleep, Steev,” slurred Tony, half asleep himself, “I’ve gotta somesthing to tell yoo.” He willed himself to talk properly but it was hard with the exhaustion of a very eventful day weighing in on him.

“Humhm.”

“Today I hadta wake up eeerrly, hadta go bend for Doom wit yoo,” said Tony. He had to tell Steve this before they fell asleep, it was important. Steve had told him he loved him and he needed to let this out of his chest.

“You should sleep Tony. You aren’t making any sense,” replied Steve with a chuckle. He brushed Tony’s cheekbone with his thumb.

“Sshhhshh, I’mma trying to tell yoo…” It was pretty important, “I hadta cum with Spidey-man and Noh-Varr, plan a trap fer MODOK. Hadta –yawn—fix Rhodey. Hadta get in bed with investors and Pepper and Bambi. Hadta fight Hammer’s giant rubbot then hadta fix Rhodey again—“

Steve, the jerk, was laughing.

“Pay attenthion! I’m saying I had a busy day, then I cum home and had two—cum home and uh— and yoo make me—I had two orgams. So Imm’tired, real tired butt gotta tell yoo, befur I puss out,” Tony couldn’t pass out without saying this because it was important and Steve would go on another secret mission tomorrow and would wake up at the ungodly hour of five o’ clock.

“Okay,” Steve’s lips brushed Tony’s collarbone. He’d thrown out an arm over his waist and caressed his side with a loving hand. Luckily for Tony, he wasn’t ticklish, well, not too ticklish.

“Stop that,” a giggle followed by half-hearted squirming, “haet ticklins, lisssen Steev, I—“ Just one more struggle and he could go doze off in peace. “Steev, I wuv oooo—“ Everything went black as Tony slept, three hectic sleepless days catching up with him; he hadn’t even been able to finish the sentence.

  


*

  


Steve heard Tony’s heartbeat slow down to that of slumber, traced the arc reactor with a finger, its dim light fading where his hand intercepted the glow. He was pretty tired himself too. He knew what Tony had tried to say, and it made him incredibly happy.

With a sigh, he willed away sad memories of times long gone. Times Tony didn’t remember anymore.

“I know,” he said, “I just wish we hadn’t had to go through so much crap before I realized.”

He and Tony were okay. They would be okay. They loved each other.

Breath evening out, Steve followed Tony straight to dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiberius Stone (affectionately called Ty by Tony), was a bad man but at least he gave us [this.](http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb401/Dangwhyme/?action=view&current=1243884069045.jpg) Learn more about him [here.](http://www.rapsheet.co.uk/rapsheetmain/Character2.asp?UniqueId=1884)
> 
> [Henry Hellrung ](http://marvel.wikia.com/Henry_Hellrung_%28Earth-616%29)was Tony's AA sponsor and an actor playing Iron Man in a TV show in the comics.
> 
> Chapter title:  
> “IT WAS VERY VERY EROTIC” / David Dobel in the _Anything Else_ movie.


	10. IF IT DOESN'T WORK OUT THERE WILL NEVER BE ANY DOUBT THAT THE PLEASURE WAS WORTH ALL THE PAIN

**W** hen Tony woke up his body ached. A good, well earned ache. He threw a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table: 8:00 am. That was still too early for his standards; Steve was obviously rubbing off on him. It took two tries for his body to completely wake up and gather enough strength for him to sit up. He felt pressure in his lower back, which he ignored as he made to stand up.

Tony flopped back into the mattress and groaned.

“Okay, walking is overrated anyway,” he thought out loud, calmly. Nothing said ‘Steve Rogers was here’ like the burn in his ass. Boy, was it going to be fun today! If he managed to walk, the limp he’d be sporting was going to be impressive.

Something rustled on the pillow next to him; it was a piece of paper. Tony already knew what it was: Steve always left a note when he had to leave before Tony woke up. He’d told him to drop it, that it was too sappy, but he kept on doing it. Tony had to admit, though, it made him feel warm inside whenever he spotted the little things.

 _Went to Secret Mission,  
have a nice day, see you later.  
Will bring cake.  
—S_

God, let him bring that Opera cake from the Francois Payard Bakery he’d been craving since Monday. He loved that—wait, why would he bring cake?

The Avengers comm. beeped in the back of his head so he let flow part of the armor’s helmet out. It quickly surrounded his head.

“Stark,” Maria Hill’s voice wasn’t the best way to start a morning, “MODOK took the bait. We’re going after him. I want you on the roof to board the Quinjet two minutes ago.” The transmission ended.

Well, he’d have to find a way to bring himself to walk. “Here goes nothing,” he sighed and hissing, moved his legs to the side of the bed. Feet firmly on the floor, he stood up. And quickly sat back down, biting back a groan.

“Plan B it is, then”.

The armor poured out from his pores and before long Iron Man lay sitting on the bed. He was able to walk now, assisted by the suit. He flew out the window and then a few stories.

Everyone was already there, they all looked at him when he landed down softly. He walked up to Maria and noticed her looking at Bucky who was staring at him. BuckyCap approached them with a serious face, body rigid. But then again, that was his usual self so Tony thought nothing of it. The other Avengers gathered around.

“He isn’t coming, Hill,” announced Bucky.

“What?” asked Tony.

“Excuse me?” asked Maria.

There was a generalized reaction of surprise among the onlookers.

“Stark’s limping, he’s not coming,” said the new Captain America.

“I’m not—“

“You were injured yesterday when you were attacked at your company’s meeting. Again, you didn’t call for backup and Rhodes, Potts and you attempted to deal with the attacker by yourselves. It’s clear you haven’t healed properly yet,” explained Bucky, pointing at Iron Man.

 _Screw you and your little brother too, Steve!_ Thought Tony angrily. “Listen, Cap. I’m alright and I—“

“Can it, you are not coming and that’s final.” Bucky made an impressive Steve impersonation, all straight shoulders and intimidating looming. It didn’t work on Tony; it hadn’t even worked for Steve himself ever.

“Since when are you the team’s leader, kid? Maria’s who makes the decisions here so let her have her say!” He didn’t quite shout, but Iron Man’s voice was a bit higher than normal.

Maria stared at both of them. First at Tony who had opened his faceplate and looked at her with pleading eyes, then at Bucky, who had his jaw set and was frowning plaintively.

“You aren’t coming, Stark,” agreed Maria.

“You can’t be serious!” protested Tony, “You need me. Not only am I one of the few heavy-hitters in the team, I’m also your go-to guy for anything tech related. I’m also in charge of communications and enemy signals interception.”

“In your state, you’ll be more of a liability on the field. You can still take charge of communications and everything else from the Tower.” The stubborn junior wasn’t backing down. Of course he wouldn’t, he was Captain America now and he’d always been as much of a hard-ass as Steve was.

“I built the goddamn trap!” snapped Tony, he gestured to Maria, then to the Quinjet, “I built the bait and I set it out so I’m going.”

“Spider boy and Alien boy did it with you, they’ll manage,” retorted Hill. Damn her for siding with Captain Bullhead!

“You can’t bench Iron Man!” joined in Spider-Man, “No one else gets my geek jokes and without him I’ll be stuck working the trap programming and security jamming with Protector!” Spidey nodded at Noh-Varr, who was close by, “No offense man, but you can be boring sometimes,” he apologized.

“None taken? I don’t understand you half of the time, even when you are not joking,” replied the Kree boy in between talking with his girlfriend.

“Suck it up Iron Man, Spider-Man,” threatened Maria. She signaled the team to board the Quinjet. “Everyone, we’re leaving. Iron Man stays.”

When Tony let out an unsubordinated “I’m not,” Maria gave him this look, this one look that promised Hell. Ha, he was already used to those.

The rest of the Avengers hurried then to the jet, only Wolverine walked by at his usual pace. He saluted Tony, a smirk on his face.

BuckyCap crossed his arms, as did Maria Hill. The both of them were about to forcefully bench Iron Man and no one had wanted to stay and witness the fireworks.

  


*

  


“I guess I’m sorry?” apologized one Ant-Man to his boss.

They were on their way to a fourth secret military base where supposedly robots had replaced high commands and soldiers, according to intelligence provided to the Secret Avengers. The first base had been clear; as had been the second, and the third had had only one single robot infiltrator.

“Ant-Man?” replied Steve, mind half on the reports on the suspected army pod people they’d had received from the unknown source, and half somewhere else.

“The other day, I made you and the Stark guy feel uncomfortable with my comments.” Eric deliberately wasn’t looking at him. He was even fidgeting.

“It’s okay, Eric. It wasn’t you,” assured Steve as he read again the reports. They seemed legit enough, the evidence sent to them as well, but something was off and they hadn’t found anything but only one replaced officer, a lower rank one at that, in the whole of the three bases they had scoured so far. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

War Machine called Steve’s attention. “It’s a distraction,” he said, “Tone’s telling me Hills’s got MODOK and her team have all of his Doom-stolen robots pinpointed and on lockdown. None of the damned things appear to be positioned in military installations. Someone wanted us far away as possible”.

“MODOK’s that big egghead guy with tiny arms and legs, right?” asked Eric, “and how does Stark know about our secret mission?”

“He hacked us,” muttered Black Widow none too happy with the fact.

“Hank, take us to Maria’s Avengers. Fast,” ordered Steve. He had the feeling something terrible was about to happen.

  


**

  


Turns out the Secret Avengers were late. By the time they landed there were only the remains of a heated battle. There was a big blackened crater on the floor, maimed Doombots scattered inside and outside of it mixed with a few A.I.M.’s lackeys’ corpses.

“We still haven’t found MODOK’s body.” Spiderwoman and Thor had stayed with the sweeping staff. Probably waiting for him and his team to arrive as they had announced by their comm. link, “Captain America thinks he’s still alive, that he somehow managed to escape. I think Doom got him good,” accounted Jessica Drew.

Steve surveyed the crater and shook his head disapprovingly.

“Most wretched Doom hath knownst of our plans. He seeketh revenge against MODOK and he delivered.” Thor’s thunderous voice ran across the field. Some of the cleaning staff turned to look at him and quickly went back to their duties.

“We sent the surviving A.I.M. goons to a hospital. After that, it’s prison for them. So as you can see, it’s all wrapped up. Can we leave?” Drew asked, arms crossed, eyes taking in the mess that had been once a prominent Oracle Inc. R&D lab.

“Alright,” answered Steve a bit reluctant, “Want a lift?”

“Sure.”

“How about you Thor?”

“Nay, I shall head to our quarters by mine own means, however your offer is appreciated, good friend.”

Once Thor had parted, Steve looked at Jessica, “Let’s go,” he said then added with a sheepish smile, “We’ll be stopping by a bakery on our way to the Tower, by the way, if you don’t mind.” He motioned her to the Quinjet’s hatch. Spiderwoman nodded perplexed, and boarded the plane.

  


***

  


Tony had showed up just on time to back up his team when the Doombots had gone rampant. The Secret Avengers were taking too long to arrive and he couldn’t stay and not do something. He’d then disabled MODOK’s Doomsday Chair preventing him from escaping, and held Doom at bay long enough for the others to work through the barrier he’d set up around the room where Humpty had been contained after springing up the trap and had been about to be broken in so many pieces that not even the Avenger’s horses and men would’ve been able to put him together. Doom still got his way, though, when Spider-Man and Captain America had attempted to take MODOK to a safer place.

Yet! No matter that Iron Man had gone and saved their asses, helped with their damaged Quinjet –badly hit by a fleeing Doom--, Captain McPants had still bitched at him all the way back and then had had a ‘talk’ with him about acceptable and unacceptable risks in the field, with all the grace and gentleness of a Russian ex-assassin soldier. And as if that hadn’t been enough, Tony had gotten a dressing down from Maria later, instigated by, why yes, James ‘I-don’t-know-how-to-mind-my-own-damn-business’ Buchanan Barnes.

So Tony had retreated to the living room with a laptop and a cup of coffee, sat on the far end of the sofa and got to work. He wasn’t attending the stupid debriefing.

He would’ve gone to the workshop but it was in lockdown after some smart ass had attempted to go in and had repeatedly typed the wrong pass codes and set off the alarm, activating the security protocols when attempting to hack the electronic locks. It wouldn’t open for another half an hour –Spider-Man was going to be so sorry later for this. Jarvis was cleaning up his room so Tony had had nowhere else to go, really. And this project was important, it had so much potential; it was his most recent obsession: a whole city powered by Repulsor Technology. That’d show people how reliable and powerful eco-friendly energy could be, how Stark Resilient could change the world, help prevent the planet’s further deterioration, lower prices and bring a new era of safe inexhaustible general public available fuel-reliant tech.

Thor needed a new Asgard so maybe he’d be interested in what Tony had to offer.

  


**

  


Steve found Tony in the living room, just like Maria had told him he would. He was deep in something; Steve could tell by the focused frown and the way his fingers tapped on his lips. It was but one of the many little endearing thinking habits of Tony, often displayed when he was concentrating hard on something. Others included playing with his hair, tugging at his lower lip, making faces at the screen or device he was holding and there was a particularly funny one that he mostly fell in only when too far gone in his head: trying to touch the goatee with his tongue.

The tense shoulders and the furious one-handed typing –how did he even manage that?-- told Steve, however, that the man was upset.

“They told me I’d find you here sulking,” he greeted and sat next to the brooding genius, he placed the box he’d been carrying carefully on the coffee table. Tony didn’t look at him.

“I’m not sulking,” voice flat, eyes glued to the computer’s screen, “Why aren’t you at the debriefing with the others?” asked Tony, probably trying his best not to sound petulant but failing.

“I looked around, you weren’t there so I asked for Iron Man and here I am. Maria can inform me later of what happened, that’s what mission reports are for,” Steve opened the box; a delicious mix of chocolate and coffee aroma filled the air. “I brought cake,” he took out a fork from his back pocket and poked Tony’s mouth with a small cake sample mounted on it.

“C’mon, have a taste. It’s got coffee syrup and coffee buttercream and chocolate and almonds— I thought you’d like it, I mean, it’s made with coffee,“ he poked again, more insistent this time.

Tony moved away from the pastry, “Stop that, I’m busy”.

Steve set the fork down on the white FPB carton, “After all the trouble I went through to choose the right cake and then bring it home in one piece,” he mourned jokingly.

Tony had been listening to music while working. Right now a song about big balls and high society was playing at a low volume. Steve had always found his wide range of music preferences amusing. The man enjoyed classic music but just as easily as he listened to a Beethoven piece, he’d be listening a few seconds later to some frenzied loud mash of drums, guitars and raspy singing.

“Yeah, what’s with the cake?” asked Tony with poorly veiled curiosity.

Steve grinned deviously and lifted the fork, teasing Tony with the bite of pastry on it, “Eat and I’ll tell you.” Tony complied. He let him feed him two morsels before prompting for an answer with an inquiring eyebrow.

“Around two in the morning I rose from bed to go to the bathroom. I accidentally jostled you half-awake and you thought I was leaving.” There was a fond smile on Steve’s face as he called to mind the memory, “You asked me to bring cake.”

“And you always do what I tell you to in my sleep,” replied Tony, rolling his eyes. At least now he was looking at Steve, albeit condescendingly, and eating some more cake on his own.

“You are… interesting, when you are asleep,” mused Steve, a mischievous expression on his face. “Most of the time you sleep like a log, but the handful of times you don’t, you talk, a lot –I’ve had pretty funny conversations with you-- or you ask for things. What’s a Cypress PoSC 5, anyway?” Steve snickered, he and Google had become close friends ever since, “Then there are the times when you grope me in your sleep, sometimes you even make me grope you in your sleep, and once you woke me up in the middle of the night to have sex and it wasn’t until halfway that I realized you were actually asleep. What kind of person has sex while sleeping?” He let out a laugh at the image of that particular night. Steve had had a mixed variety of reactions back then; he’d been surprised at first, baffled next, upset, and then ashamed and aroused. In the end, Tony had gone back to a peaceful sleep after coming, leaving Steve to deal with himself. Steve’s hand had been a sad consolation.

Tony’s face heated up, a faint pink tinted his cheeks, and his mouth opened but he was unable to articulate anything. From his lax hand, the fork ebbed away, crashing loudly onto the coffee table.

Maybe Steve shouldn’t have mentioned that? Was this the first time Tony heard anything of his unconventional sleeping behavior? It’s not like it happened all the time, just twice or thrice a week.

“Ru,” began Tony, eyes wide, “Ru would say I was a funny sleeper. I had always thought she was pulling my leg when she told me what I supposedly did in my sleep. No one else said anything ever.” He went back to stare at his computer’s screen, perplexed.

Well, that was probably because Tony would rarely stay in bed with his flings after sex. The only other person that he had consistently shared a bed with aside from Steve –that Steve knew of—had been the Fujikawa girl.

“Guess that explains how you had known exactly what I needed and your eerily accurate gifts.”

Steve rested a hand on Tony’s knee and rubbed lazy circles on it with his pointer and middle finger. “S’okay. I think it’s cute,” he tried to comfort the other man but, oh dear, he’d forgotten that ‘cute’ was one of the three forbidden words to call a certain ex-billionaire playboy.

Tony, however, didn’t jerk away or made any distinctive gesture to encompass his disapproval of the nominal, he just grunted a response “I’m not cute,” and went back to work on whatever he’d been working at when Steve came in, hands a flurry of speed on the small keyboard. He wouldn’t ever tell him how cute he found his grumpiness.

“What happened? Why are you sulking? And don’t say you aren’t because I know you are,” asked Steve instead. Whatever had brought the blues on his –and the word still sounded ludicrous to him-- boyfriend, he’d do his best to set it straight.

At this, Tony pinned him with such a reproachful stare that Steve’s stomach lurched.

“Your jerk of a little brother made Maria bench me because I was—“ and here Tony gestured wildly with both hands and face, angry, before continuing, “limping,” he finished with a distinctive intonation in the last word, effectively bringing a hard blush to Steve’s cheeks.

“He was worried for you,” replied Steve, his hand had advanced some inches upward. He patted Tony’s thigh.

Tony snorted, “Har, har. You so funny Rogers, you should’ve been sent to entertain the troops instead of going to the front lines, your talents have been truly wasted,” he deadpanned.

Steve squeezed Tony, turned his face with his free hand so they were looking at each other.

“He worries for you, don’t doubt that. He knows you are important to me so he keeps an eye on you. He looks after the people I care for.” Something Bucky had never verbalized but that Steve knew. He’d taken care of Sharon and watched out for Sam when Steve had been lost in time. He’d taken on the heavy Captain’s America mantle and even kept Steve’s place clean and lived, although now that Steve was living in the Tower, it was more Bucky’s than his.

Tony glared at him, a frown on his face.

“I’ll talk to him, okay?” promised Steve but Tony’s frown didn’t go away.

“Sure, you go and tell him: ‘Hey Buck, ol’ chum, next time you see Tony limping, don’t bench him, pal. That’s just him still feeling me from last night’,” Tony said this with a forced guttural voice and puffed out chest, arms akimbo; most likely an intended parody of Steve but of course Steve didn’t talk like that or posed as ridiculously as Tony had done.

And what he’d just said… Steve blushed again at the crude comment.

“Of course I won’t use those exact words but—“ A familiar music started to play from Tony’s computer and Steve fell silent. He loved this song. In fact, it was—

“That’s my song,” pointed out Steve and Tony narrowed his eyes, a playful smirk on his face as he crossed his arms.

“Nuh-uh. It’s my song now, I’m stealing it from you,” he said jutting his chin defiantly, “I think it suits me better,” and he nodded, stating the finality of his declaration.

“That’s—”

Tony raised a finger, “Your eyes are blue,” he started.

“Yours too.” Steve wasn’t about to lose his favorite song to Tony. No sir, Steve was going to fight for it.

“I never knew what your kisses could do… until our first date. You blew my world. Do you have any idea of how many times had I fantasized of kissing you before that?”

“Do you have any idea of how many times I did?” Even before he’d realized he was in love with Tony, before he’d caught himself thinking of him in his alone time a couple of times, long before that, a week after meeting the man, he’d wondered how a suave man such as Mr. Stark would kiss. How those lush lips would have felt on his. And when he finally got to taste them, it had been a taste of heaven. Steve had completely lost it when Tony’s tongue had joined in the action. The way this stubborn, beautiful man moved his tongue was beyond human skills.

Tony raised a third finger, just as Billie’s gorgeous voice began to sing the lyrics of Steve’s favorite song, “But you see, no one can believe –or could believe, if they knew—that you love me,” argued Tony.

“Why wouldn’t they?” It was impossible not to at least feel attracted to Tony, he was—

“Well, for starters, you are goddamn Captain America, no matter who wields the shield, you’ll always be America’s only and one Captain America, Steve Rogers, the legend! Everyone loves you; you are all that’s good in the world, bearer of the people’s most noble ideals and dreams and all that. And you are every man and woman’s wet dream. Just look at you!” Tony eyed him with open appreciation and raised his eyebrows suggestively licking his lips.

Steve flushed. Electricity ran through his body and heat pooled in his stomach. He swallowed.

Then Tony’s mischievous expression was replaced by a self-deprecating one, “I’m all that’s wrong with the world, a selfish ex-alcoholic, ex-arms dealer, workaholic, capitalist pig, jerk. Anyone will believe that I fell for you but no one would ever believe that you fell for me,” he finished with a sad smile.

And that was Tony Stark, guilt-tripping like a champ, selling himself short. “You are an idiot, I’ll give you that, because you don’t seem to really know how brave, smart and heroic you are. When I fell to the sea I thought I was going to die, then I find myself in a new strange world with stuff I had only seen in my wilder dreams, read only in fiction books. The future, Tony, was scary. You gave me a home, you lent me your shoulder, you were there for me from the start. You helped me understand this time, cope with and overcome my insecurities; you helped me find a purpose, find new faith, whenever I had lost mine.” They had been through so much together and Tony had always had his back. Without him, and it ashamed Steve to admit himself so weak, without Tony, maybe Steve would’ve given up a long time ago. “And you’ve said it, I’m not as nice as everyone thinks I am. I can be mean and play dirty too,” Steve stroked Tony’s thigh lazily and rested his head on the sofa’s back, giving the other a besotted smile.

Tony let out a good humored laugh, “You know what? I’m not arguing this with you anymore. The song is mine. End of discussion.” His eyes gleamed, his smile was a genuine happy one. Steve loved seeing him like this: unworried, carefree, content. It was a rare sight.

“Okay,” granted Steve, “Anything mine is yours,” he said. Tony’s eyebrows shot up, a devilish smirk drawn on his face.

“Oh, really?”

“Really”.

Blue eyes locked on Steve’s shoes. “Because I like those shoes, a lot.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yours,” answered Steve amused.

A calloused, nimble hand touched on Steve’s over Tony’s thigh. It nudged it upward, an inch or two short of the crotch, “And this hand could—“ a chuckle, “come in handy.”

Steve bit back a groan at the bad pun, settling for rolling his eyes instead.

“Yours too,” he replied.

Deft fingers skimmed over Steve’s lips, “And this mouth looks so kissable.”

“All yours,” repeated Steve and bent over Tony, hands framing the sharp handsome face to kiss him, a sweet slow kiss with no heat or passion, just love.

One kiss became two, and three, then more.

It was perfect. Steve loved Tony, Tony loved Steve, they had been together for a month –and hopefully would be for more longer than that, years, maybe, their whole lives preferably—and they were kissing. In the Tower’s living room.

“Tony, you done sulking? Because Maria thinks MODOK’s alive and wants us to track hi--JIKES!!! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so—” Peter had come in and gone out in a flash. Steve had frozen when he’d heard him yelp and stayed still until his panicked voice trailed off, but Tony hadn’t. He had just smirked over Steve’s mouth and kept on kissing him in earnest.

So Tony didn’t mind the others finding out. He apparently didn’t mind getting caught making out with Steve on the sofa either. If anything, his kisses had grown more demanding. Well, in that case…

Steve set out to devour Tony’s mouth eagerly. Good. It was good.

Perfect.

They’d have to take it somewhere else private soon, though. Even if Tony didn’t mind the others seeing, Steve still had enough decency left to care about traumatizing any more teammates.

  


*

  


Outside of the Avengers Tower, New York, ever sleepless, was full of light and life.

  
FINIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “IF IT DOESN'T WORK OUT THERE WILL NEVER BE ANY DOUBT THAT THE PLEASURE WAS WORTH ALL THE PAIN“ / Jimmy Buffet.
> 
> \---
> 
> This was my first fic and this was also my first Big Bang. Thank you everyone for reading and I hope it was to your liking, I had lots of fun writing it.
> 
> I am also humbly honored of having had the chance to work with dorcas_gustine and silver_autumn who made the art for the entry. Thank you so much guys I love your art! You are the _awesomest!_


End file.
